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A 


FEADORA’S FAILURE 


By 

LUCIE E. JACKSON 

WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

J. MACFARLANE 


** Be use/al where thou livest, that all may 
Both want and wish thy pleasing presence still ; 
Kindness, good parts, great places are the way 
To compas;. this ” 

Gborgb Herbert. 




PHILADELPHIA; 
DAVID McKAY, Publisher, 

6io South Washington Square 


UBffARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

JUN 3 190/^ 

/^Copynjrhf Eofrv 
XUSS Ol XXc„ No, 
COPY e. 


Copyright, 1907, 

By DAVID McKAY 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Eldest Daughter 9 

II. The Rest of the Family. 18 

III. “ Fea Means Well ” 30 

IV. Fea Exerts her Authority 39 

V. Cousin Felicia 47 

VI. Cousin Felicia Pays a Visit 58 

VII. Thistling 69 

VIII. Ronnie’s Illness 78 

IX. Virginie is Distressed 84 

X. Kathie’s Secret 93 

XI. Jack Boyd 104 

XII. The Lady in Black Iii 

XIII. Kathie 119 

XIV. Wulfric’s Return 136 

XV. Uncle Stanley 148 

XVI. The Lady in Black Again 167 

XVII. Cares 179 

XVIII. The Return Home 190 

XIX. The Mystery Solved 196 

XX. Meddlesome Fingers 204 

XXI. The Probation over 220 

XXII. Dejection 228 

XXIII. The Working Housekeeper 235 

XXIV. And Last 245 



FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER. 

“ Desire not — self love is strong 
Within thy breast.” 

Adelaide Proctor. 


“ My brain it teems 
With endless schemes 
Both new and old.” 

Anon. 

A MONTH had passed. Littlefield House, 
had, to all outward seeming, resumed its 
pristine cheerfulness. Indoors, however, the 
inmates looked anything but cheerful. The 
gloom of that funeral day still seemed to hang 
over everybody— from Dr. Oakley to little 
Ronald ; and the servants’ footsteps were as 
hushed as if the mistress, whom they had so 
loved and revered, still lay in that cold chamber 
of Death. 

“ And what makes it still worse,” said Sarah, 
the housemaid, with her apron to her eyes, “ is 
to see Miss Fea come in so pat with her orders 
for this thing and that thing.’' 

9 


lo FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

“ Some one must give the orders,” returned 
Virginie. 

She had entered the late Mrs. Oakley’s 
service as housemaid a week after her marriage 
with the doctor, and had been retained as 
nurse when the eldest boy, Wulfric, was born ; 
and when, as years went by and the children 
numbered seven, it was to Virginie they owed 
much of the loving fostering care which had 
been bestowed upon them without stint when 
the mother, whom they all loved so dearly, had 
to lie by for many weary months upon her 
couch of pain. 

And now, during these last weeks of gloom, 
Virginie had begun to regard the motherless 
brood with an almost maternal affection, and 
it was gall to her to hear Sarah speak in a 
fault-finding tone of the eldest daughter, who 
must needs take the mother’s place if the house- 
hold was to be carried on as in the days now 
gone by forever. 

Some one must give the orders,” repeated 
Virginie, biting her lips to keep back her own 
tears, “and who so well fitted as Miss Fea to 
give them ? ” 

“ There are two questions to that,” replied 
Sarah with a sniff. “ There is one way of 
giving an order, which was our poor, dear 
mistress’ way ; and there is another way of 
giving an order, which is Miss Fea’s way. 
And if you ask me which way I like best. I’ll 


THE ELDEST DAUGHTER. 


II 


not tell you I like Miss Fea’s.’' And, with a 
parting shake to her duster, Sarah whisked out 
of the nursery. 

In the doctor’s library Feadora Oakley stood. 
She was a little over eighteen. Her face— a 
pretty face it was, fair, bright-complexioned, 
with dark eyes — wore just an eager, almost ex- 
cited expression. Her fingers were tightly 
interlaced, and her feet worked nervously to- 
gether as she faced her father. 

The doctor’s whole figure was expressive of 
utter weariness, as he threw himself back in 
his chair and raised tired-looking eyes in his 
daughter’s face. 

“ I know so well how mother wished every- 
thing to be carried on in the house,” Fea was 
saying in eager tones. “ Just exactly how she 
wished the children to be looked after, and 
everything. And, you know, father, I, who 
have been so much more with her than any- 
body else, ought to know better than a stranger 
how things should be conducted in the 
house.” 

“ You should — yes, you should, but I do not 
know whether I should be doing right to de- 
volve so much duty upon untried shoulders,” 
returned the doctor. 

“ Untried ? Oh ! father, not quite untried, 
when mother gave over to me so many of her 
duties whilst she was lying ill.” 

** Yes, I know ; but she was at the helm, my 


12 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


little girl, directing and controlling affairs, even 
though on a sick bed.” 

Fea turned half impatiently away, and her 
right foot kept up a restless tapping, which 
jarred on the doctor’s nerves. 

“ It is not that I am doubting your powers 
as housekeeper and general manager, my 
daughter ; for, although my work keeps me 
in much ignorance of all that goes on at home, 
I have not the slightest doubt that my little 
girl will in time show that she has inherited 
her mother’s talent for management, yet I can- 
not think it is right on my part to allow you to 
undertake such an onerous task. If you will 
not admit that yours are untried shoulders, you 
must, at least, admit that they are very youth- 
ful ones, and it is for that reason that I hesitate 
in laying so much responsibility upon you.” 

“ But, father, mother wished me to take her 
place. She— she always said I could do things 
so much better than anybody else. I know 
she would not have liked the thought of a 
working housekeeper, such as you have sug- 
gested engaging.” 

Dr. Oakley passed his hand thoughtfully 
over his brow. His was a fine-looking, serious 
face, kind and gentle too, but just now he was 
worried. He wanted to do the best thing for 
his children, for his household, and for himself, 
and he could not bring himself to think what 
would be the best. 


THE ELDEST DAUGHTER. 13 

After months of weary pain his wife had been 
taken from them suddenly, so suddenly that it 
had caused a complete overthrow of house- 
hold plans. The end had come quickly, far 
quicker than either he or the London spe- 
cialist had deemed it possible, and the result 
was that Dr. Oakley had not her counsel to fall 
back upon— that ready counsel which he had 
ever sought, and had ever found wisest to place 
his fullest reliance upon. He felt stranded 
without it. The complete superintendence 
of all his household cares had been in his 
wife’s skilful hands. And now his daughter, 
aged eighteen, was clamoring for the place 
which her mother had filled so ably. Would 
she have considered it good policy to allow the 
youthful wings to attempt such an ambitious 
flight ? He doubted it. But when he raised 
a pair of harassed eyes, he met the eager ones 
of his daughter fixed so earnestly on him that 
he almost smiled. 

“ There are your studies. You are not be- 
yond them yet, my child. I cannot have you 
neglecting the music and the drawing in which 
your mother took so much pride.” 

“ I have thought it all out, father. I can 
easily manage everything. My drawing lessons 
will go on just the same, and, surely, you can 
trust me to practise music as I have always 
done.” 

I must do so, Fea. I must trust you in 


14 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


all things, and put whole confidence in you. 
What else can I do ? Only let not the trust 
be abused.” 

“Then it is all settled, father ?” 

The troubled look returned to the doctor’s 
face. He looked steadfastly at his daughter 
without answering. Then, suddenly, a bright 
look flashed into his eyes. 

“You can at least fall back upon Virginie 
for guidance when you are perplexed,” he 
said, as if struck by an idea, and not perceiv- 
ing the quick shade of impatience which 
flashed across Fea’s face at his words. “ She 
knows better than any one else what her mis- 
tress’s wishes were in the house. You cannot 
do better than go to her in all your difficulties, 
Fea, my dear. Your mother often told me 
what perfect reliance she could place on Vir- 
ginie, and of what worth was her good, stolid 
common-sense. Yes, Fea, I think we can see 
a tiny bit of the way out of the fog and mist 
that has beset us ever since — she was taken 
from us.” His voice broke, and the finely- 
curved lips twitched. 

“ Then I may take sole charge of everything, 
father?” Fea’s face was brightening. 

“ One moment, dear. There is another 
thing. Supposing that, after some weeks of 
managing you begin to tire of it ” 

“ Father, never ! ” interrupted Fea, indig- 
nantly. 


THE ELDEST DAUGHTER. 15 

“ Hush, dear, hear me out. It would be 
only natural if you did. I could not blame 
you. You are very young — ” Fea moved 
impatiently — “ and small wonder that you 
should tire. But I should not like you then 
to think that I had tied you down to a life 
which you had mistaken. Supposing for all 
our sakes — ^yours, mine, and the children’s — 
I limit you to a six months’ trial. After that, 
you can tell me honestly whether you would 
like to continue or not.” 

Fea smiled a superior smile, but nodded 
her head the while, as if well content that 
such should be the arrangement. 

Her father continued. “Yes, we shall try 
how you get on with Virginie’s assistance. 
And then, Fea, there is your mother’s cousin ! 
She is the very one to aid you in your difficul- 
ties. For there will be difficulties, Fea ; ay, 
and uphill work, too, when things do not turn 
out as smoothly as you had hoped. You know 
that, my child ? ” 

“ Yes, father ; but I don’t think things will 
go very wrong. At school, every one said I 
had a talent for managing, and mother used 
to call me her helpful daughter, so I don’t 
think you need trouble.” 

“ Well, don’t be afraid to tell me when you get 
worried. And, above all, you must promise me 
to rely on the kind discretion of your mother’s 
cousin— Felicia Danvers— and on Virginie’s 


1 6 FEADORA^S FAILURE. 

common-sense. If you do that you cannot go 
very far astray. There ! that’s the surgery bell. 
I’ve been expecting it for the last ten minutes. 
God help you and give you the wisdom of 
your mother, my child. It was a wisdom which 
you can never do better than follow.” 

And with an encouraging pat on the shoulder 
and a gentle kiss on her cheek, Dr. Oakley left 
the room. 

Fea stood for some minutes looking down 
at the fire burning brightly on the hearth, and 
then exclaimed aloud— 

“ I do so detest Cousin Felicia’s irritating 
ways ; and, of course, dear old Virginie is only 
a servant. I know better than Cousin Felicia 
what mother liked, and one could not expect 
Virginie to have the refined ideas that mother 
had on everything. No, father does not know 
what a capital manager I really am, or he would 
not have left those restrictions. Well, I don’t 
think they can be called restrictions exactly — 
he just gave me the idea of what I could do 
if I found myself failing in anything. But it 
is not likely that I shall fail.” 

And, so saying, Fea began to make plans for 
starting upon her self-imposed duties, trying 
hard the while not to give heed to the voice 
of Conscience, which reminded her that her 
mother had on more than one occasion, when 
death to her seemed not far distant, given the 
same advice as her father— namely, of seeking 


THE ELDEST DAUGHTER. 


17 


help and counsel from the two women who, 
though in such different grades of life, had been 
Mrs. Oakley’s comfort and support in many 
matters pertaining to her everyday life. 


"chapter II. 

THE REST OF THE FAMILY. 

“ We live in deeds, not words *’ 

Philip Bailey. 

“ Look not mournfully into the past — it returns no more. 
Wisely improve the present ; and go forth into the shadowy 
future without fear and with a manly heart.” 

Longfellow. 

The sound of many footsteps and the bang- 
ing of the hall door announced to Fea that the 
rest of the family had returned from school. 

“ Hush ! Roy ; gently, lad," said an ad- 
monishing voice. And the next moment the 
library door was thrown open, and five heads 
appeared. 

The tallest of the group, who had the ad- 
vantage of looking far and away over the heads 
of the rest, stood in the background, his quiet 
eyes roaming over the room as in quest of one 
especial figure. 

“ Father not come home yet ? " he inquired, 
in the same quiet tones in which his admoni- 
tion to a younger brother had a minute before 
been spoken. 

“ Yes ; he’s in the surgery," returned Fea. 
“ But, Wulfric, don’t go just yet. I want to 

i8 


THE REST OF THE FAMILY. 


19 

speak to you. You all,” addressing the four 
heads, “must go to the schoolroom. Your tea 
must be ready by now.” 

But Roy lounged further into the room, and, 
taking a comfortable seat, turned aggravatingly 
calm eyes upon his eldest sister, whilst he trolled 
out to the tune of “ Cornin’ thro’ the Rye 

“ Gin a motor meets a motor, 

On the Epsom Road — 

Gin a motor greet a motor, 

Need the pair explode ? 

Ilka motist ha’ his motor. 

Scorning rein and trace, 

Yet all the bus screws smiled at me. 

Going to the race.’ * 

It was impossible to help a smile, for the 
singer seemed to so enjoy his song. But Fea 
frowned angrily. 

“ Roy, how can you be so vulgar ” 

“ Vulgar ! She calls it vulgar ! Why, it’s 
only a parody on ‘ Cornin’ thro’ the Rye,’ and 
a very harmless one at that. What donkeys 
girls are to be sure ! ” 

“ Many thanks,” and Gyneth, headed by 
Kathine and Nan, swept him a withering 
curtsey. 

But Kathi’s long legs were never meant for 
grace, and in lurching up against Gyneth, the 
latter caught the iron tip of her heel in the 
frayed braid of her skirt, and was thereby 
brought ignominiously to the ground. 


20 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


She was up before Roy’s laugh at her ex- 
pense was fully raised, and was examining the 
cause of her downfall with a rueful face. 

What a nuisance ! Look at that ! ” she 
exclaimed, holding out for general inspection 
a yard of torn braid. 

Fea sat with a face as severe as a judge. 

“ I am not surprised,” she said icily. “ Two 
inches of it were hanging down before you 
started for school this morning.” 

“ Then why didn’t you tell her ? ” retorted 
Kathie. 

“ She is old enough to see to such things 
herself,” was Fea’s reply. “And if I had told 
her, it is ten chances to one whether she’d have 
paid any attention to my warning.” 

“ Have the next verse ? ” questioned Roy, 
with a side wink at Kathie, a wink which she 
returned with interest, so well did the pair un- 
derstand each other. 

Unfortunately for her, Fea caught the wink, 
and knew that the hidden understanding was 
directed against herself. But before she could 
say a word Roy started lustily — 

“ Gin a motist scorch a motor 
Past the donkey traps ” 

Fea interrupted, her face flushing with anger. 
“ Wulfric, how can you bear to let him go on 1 
You know mother didn’t like ” 

“ Sh ! Fea, sh ! ” interrupted Wulfric in his 


THE REST OF THE FAMILY. 


21 


turn, a pained expression crossing his strong 
face as he elbowed his way from the doorway 
to Roy's side. His mother’s death was too 
recent to allow her name to be lightly brought 
into an idle discussion, roused as it was on 
Fea’s side with anger, and with boyish mischief 
on Roy’s. 

He was a sensible young fellow, was this 
eldest son of Dr. Oakley’s, who, at twenty-two 
years of age, was now walking the hospitals, in 
the hope of one day joining hands with his 
father in his already rich and growing practice. 

If, for the present, life to him, since his 
mother’s death, had assumed a darker shade, 
blotting out with a heavy hand the roseate hues 
with which he had been wont to regard his 
future career, his strong common-sense told 
him that she for whom his heart yearned would 
have been the first to bid him be brave, and 
walk still onwards in the path of truth, of love, 
and of justice, as it had been her joy to teach 
him when a little child at her knee. Her death 
had forced him to take upon himself more than 
once the office of peacemaker, for the young 
Oakleys were none of them gifted with gentle 
temperaments. 

He now laid his hand with a kindly pressure 
on Roy’s shoulder, making the mischievous 
boy look up to meet his brotherly reproval in 
the dark-blue eyes so much like the mother’s 
they had all loved. 


22 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ She is such a dictatorial ” Roy was be- 

ginning when Wulfric silenced him with the 
quiet words — 

“Take them all up to the schoolroom, old 
fellow, will you ? I sha’n’t have much time to 
hear what Fea has to tell me if I join the dad 
in the surgery, where I ought to be in a few 
minutes." 

Roy rose from his lounging attitude at once. 
He invariably did what his elder brother re- 
quired of him, making Fea pause to wonder 
more than once what charm it was that Wulfric 
possessed for them all. 

“ Come along, kids," he now said, looking 
loftily over his shoulder at Fea. “ Fm away 
for a rattling tea." 

And, catching Kathie and Nan under each 
arm, he hustled them out before him, the two 
girls laughing and struggling to free themselves. 
Gyneth followed more sedately, still examining 
with short-sighted eyes the troublesome braid 
which would demand of her some of the valued 
time taken from her precious books. And to 
Gyneth — the acknowledged clever daughter of 
Dr. Oakley — such a penance was almost heart- 
breaking. She held a needle and a reel of 
cotton in abhorrence and would far rather sit 
and study in a torn frock and untidy room 
than romp with Kathie in a dress guiltless of 
rents. 

In the distant schoolroom Roy’s voice was 


THE REST OF THE FAMILY. 


23 


heard in stentorian shouts, “ Look alive, Sarah ! 
Virginie wants the tea.” And then a whistle, 
and a prolonged cat -call, filling the old house 
with ear-splitting sounds. 

Fea flung herself petulantly into the seat 
Roy had vacated, exclaiming, “He has no 
heart ! One could scarcely imagine from hear- 
ing and seeing him that mother has been dead 
only a month.” 

If Wulfric winced again, Fea did not notice 
it. “ Roy has a great deal of heart,” he 
answered quietly; “you mistake him when 
you accuse him of having none. You forget, 
Fea, that he is a regular schoolboy, with per- 
haps more than his share of animal spirits, 
which, if not allowed to find vent, would merely 
result in leaving him a depressed morbid crea- 
ture such as you would be the last to wish our 
schoolboy Roy to become.” 

He hesitated whether or not to tell her of 
Roy’s nightly weeps for the mother he had lost, 
a knowledge of which he alone of all the family 
was cognizant of through having to share the 
same bedroom ; but whilst he hesitated to con- 
fide a matter which belonged to Roy alone, 
Fea began — 

“ Wulf, I wanted to tell you that father 
thinks it will be best for all of us if I take the 
management of the housekeeping and the look- 
ing after every one into my own hands. You 
see, I know so well what mother did, and how 


24 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


she managed everything, and what she thought 
of the children, that it will be better for me to 
look after it all than for father to get a stranger 
in. 

“ But— I thought— I understood— at least, I 
fancied — that Virginie was to superintend 
affairs ? ” stammered Wulfric, surprise showing 
in every line of his face. 

“ No, of course not,” answered Fea, im- 
patiently. “ Father wouldn’t set Virginie over 
me. It would be too absurd.” 

“ She was with — with our mother before 
you and I were born,” said Wulfric, slowly ; 
“ and I do not think that any of us would cavil 
at hearing that Virginie — whom we all love, 
and who has been a second mother to us — was 
to be placed at the head of affairs.” 

“ And over me?” asked Fea, with scarcely 
concealed anger. 

“ You are one of us,” returned Wulfric. 
“ And, besides, Fea, dear, you are very young, 
and have still your studies to continue.” 

“ I settled all that with father,” replied Fea, 
rising proudly from her seat. “ I think it 
must be getting late for you, Wulf, if you wish 
to help father in the surgery.” 

A half smile showed itself on Wulf’s face at 
what he knew was meant as a curt dismissal. 
But he would not be vexed. He put his arm 
through Fea’s as she stood looking out of the 
window with a cloud upon her face. 


THE REST OF THE FAMILY. 


25 


“ If it is all settled, dear, then there is noth- 
ing for me to say. I certainly think you are too 
young for the post, and too— well, too inex- 
perienced. What you have decided to do will 
not be a sinecure. We have been so used to 
having our home life made so pleasant and so 
— so— agreeable ” 

“ I hope you don’t mean to insinuate that I 
shall make it the reverse ! Really, Wulfric, 
you are not very polite. I did think you would 
have been the first to give me encouragement 
in the task I have set myself. I know full well 
that it will be a task, for who knows better than 
I the handful those children are, and always 
will be ” 

“ She managed them,” interrupted Wulfric 
in a low voice. 

“ Yes, of course, I know mother did ; but 
that was because she was mother, and they 
dared not disobey her.” 

“ Love, not fear, held the reins of obedience,” 
returned Wulfs quiet voice. 

Fea frowned impatiently. “ Of course, I 
know all that, and that is the way, too, that I 
shall manage. I never knew before that you 
were such a croaker. I thought that you 
would have been delighted at my undertaking 
such a burden as this whole household upon 
my shoulders and Fea’s voice had a sound 
as if tears were not far off. 

Wulf’s arm stole softly round his sister’s 


26 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


neck. Dear, don't think that I am wanting 
in sympathy. I only feel so overwhelmed at 
this big responsibility, and can only think that 
you have not thoroughly realized what it is you 
have undertaken to do. I think your courage 
is great, and I hate to damp it ; but it is better 
to look at the matter from all points of view 
before you really take it up. Remember, Fea, 
what — what our mother was to us all. I 
think ’’—with the tenderest intonation his voice 
could take — “ she was a perfect woman. Per- 
fect in her love towards her whole family ; 
perfect in her temper ; perfect in her manage- 
ment ; perfect in making the home so happy. 
She often reminded me of that beautiful woman 
in Proverbs—* Her children rise np, and call 
her blessed ; her husband also, and he praiseth 
her! And— and — we have lost her.” 

Wulfric’s arm slipped from its place round 
his sister’s neck, and, with his strong face 
twitching convulsively, he turned from the 
window and walked slowly down the length of 
the room. 

Fea had enough sympathy not to follow 
him. Perhaps, if her naturally cold heart had 
been analyzed, the biggest corner of it would 
have been found to hold Wulfric. She under- 
stood him perhaps better than she understood 
any of the others, better even than she had 
understood the idolized mother who had never 
eclipsed Wulfric in Fea’s affections. That 


THE REST OF THE FAMILY. 


27 


Wulfric had loved his mother fully and as 
deeply as his strong nature could love, she 
knew well ; but that he could think herself 
utterly incapable of filling that mother’s place, 
even in one thing, she could not grasp. Pride 
and self-confidence were Fea’s failings, and 
she had yet to learn that through them she 
would fail. 

Wulfric’s return to her side and his brotherly 
pat on the back roused her from a rather dis- 
consolate gaze out of the window. 

“Then it is all settled — all cut and dried 
between the dad and yourself,” he began cheer- 
fully. 

“ Yes ; father does not think me as incapable 
as you do.’^ 

“ Well, I would rather you had given Virginie 
a year’s trial, with the knowledge of taking her 
place when the year was out, and you would 
have been one year older. But, as that is not 
to be, I will give you no more discouraging 
words, but will try to help you all I can.’ 

“ That’s a dear fellow,” and Fea threw her 
arms around him, the gloom of her face dis- 
persing like sunshine after rain. 

“And one word more, Fea,” hastily consult- 
ing his watch ; “ don’t despise Virginie’s help 
and counsel. There is one other, too, who 
was our— our mother’s helper and counselor 
—Cousin Felicia. She can help where even 
Virdnie would be at a loss. I am five minutes 


28 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


later than I intended to be in the surgery. Fll 
see you again at dinner.” And Wulfric nod- 
ded a farewell, and was gone. 

She had not let him see the curl that her 
mouth now took as she thought of the last two 
bits of advice he had given her. 

“ Everyone seems to have a fatal infatuation 
for Virginie and Cousin Felicia. A pretty state 
the household would be in if Virginie were to 
pull one way, Cousin Felicia another, and I 
another, as would undoubtedly be the case 
were I to consult them and Fea laughed a 
laugh of scorn. 

“ Has Fea told you she wants to assume the 
reins of responsibility for the nonce ? ” inquired 
Dr. Oakley as, the surgery work over, he and 
Wulf were betaking themselves upstairs to get 
ready for dinner. 

“Yes,” returned Wulf, slowly. 

“ Don’t like the idea, eh ?” 

“ She is too young.” 

“ So I told her, but she is set on it. I’ve 
given her six months’ probation, and if during 
that time the work tells on her, or on the rest 
of us — well, she’ll have had her trial. And in 
the meanwhile Cousin Felicia will, I hope, aid 
the child all she can, and I shall give Virginie 
a hint to the same effect. Two such able co- 
workers at the helm will keep the ship from 
sinking, — eh, Wulfric, my boy ? ” 

And Wulfric nodded with a lump in his 


THE REST OF THE FAMILY. 29 

throat. Ah ! there would have been no fear 
for the ship had that loved hand always been 
able to guide the helm. And the dark-blue 
eyes were misty, as Wulf fumbled with the 
handle of his bedroom door. 


CHAPTER III. 

“fea means well.” 

“ So brothers and sisters, as we go 
Still let us move as one ; 

Always together keeping step, 

Till the march of life is done.’* 

Anon. 

WuLFRic found that Roy was standing in 
the middle of the room with his hands thrust 
deep into the pockets of his knickerbockers. 
His usually merry face was like a thunder- 
cloud. 

“ Is it true that Fea is going to rule the 
house ? ” he burst out. 

Wulf tried to smile. “Well, not to rule it ; 
the dad will always do that, you know.’' 

But Roy struck in — “ No ; Fea will rule, and 
her ruling will be like iron — no love with it. 
It will be ‘ Do this ! ’ But, by George ! "—ve- 
hemently — “ catch me do it. And it will be, 
‘ Go there ! ’ Great Scott ! fancy me running to 
do her bidding when ordered in that style." 

“ Roy " began Wulf. 

But Roy interrupted him. “ She came into 
the schoolroom with that beastly authoritative 
air which she has only lately put on, and 
ordered Kathie not to sit on the table, ordered 
30 


FEA MEANS WELL.’ 


31 


Gyneth to pull the blinds higher, prevented 
Nan from putting more coal on the fire, shook 
Ronnie because he had left his bricks on the 
floor, and she had trodden upon one and nearly 
fallen. Wish she had, and twisted her leg. 
We’d have had a deuced good time of it with 
her out of the way ! ’’ 

“ Hush ! boy, hush ! ” And Wulfric, with a 
face as weary as his father’s, sat down on the 
bed, and turned depressed eyes on Roy’s angry 
face. 

How different everything always seemed 
now ! There had never been such a hopeless 
home-coming when she lay on that sofa. But 
now there was always something to jar — had 
been every day of the four weeks since they 
had laid her to rest. Was it to be so forever ? 

Roy saw the weary look and the depression, 
and his kindly schoolboy heart smote him for 
helping to make the burden heavier. 

“ It’s a pity she’s got that beastly way with 
her,” he began, “ or she wouldn’t be half bad. 
She’s so deuced self-confident. She thinks 
she’s taking mother’s place with us — mother’s, 
Wulf, mother's ! ” and, with a burst of tears, 
Roy flung himself face downwards on the bed 
beside Wulf. 

It was no new thing for the elder brother to 
see him like this. His fingers stole caressing- 
ly over the boy’s head, and lingered there as a 
mother’s hand would have done. Did it occur 


32 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


to Roy what a much better elder sister this big 
brother would have made than the one that 
was now downstairs giving her orders in the 
dictatorial way so distasteful to those around 
her ? It may have been so, for the lad lifted 
a pair of eyes heavy with tears and with yet a 
glint of humor shining through them. 

“ I wish you could give her a touch of your 
gentleness, dear old fellow. You are more 
like the mother we have lost than she is." 

And, as his head went down again upon his 
arm, Wulf registered a secret vow to try to be 
all he could to these motherless children — what 
his mother had been to him. 

“ I had her longer than any of them," his 
heart cried out. “ Let me try to make up to 
them what they have been deprived of." 

Aloud, he said, “ Fea means well, Roy ; bear 
that in mind ; only — only " 

“ It’s her beastly priggish manner. ‘ I know 
better than you’ sort of style. But 111 try not 
to mind, Wulf, if only she doesn’t come the 
mother over us, and make such a deadly failure 
of it as she is doing." 

“ If she is trying to do her duty, Roy, don’t 
you think we ought to try to do ours by help- 
ing her all we can ? ’’ 

“ To lord it over us ! No, by Jimmy ! not if 
I know it," returned Roy with energy. 

A faint smile came into Wulf’s eyes. 

“ You’re a silly fellow ’’ he was beginning, 


FEA MEANS WELL.’ 


33 


when the door handle was turned suddenly, 
and “ Gawky Kathie” stumbled in. 

Gyneth is looking all over the place for you, 
Roy. She says she’s ready to help you with 
those Latin verses if you hurry up. Do hurry 
up, there’s a good chap, and get them over, for 
I do want you to help me with my picture post- 
card book this evening.” 

“ I’m your man,” was Roy’s reply, as he 
sprang to his feet. “What a stunning girl 
Gyneth is to remember the verses. They had 
gone right out of my head. And Saturday, 
too ! ” He disappeared with a bound out of 
the room, giving Kathie’s long pig-tail a pull as 
he passed her by. 

Kathleen was a tall, lanky girl of thirteen, 
with a thin, dark face. Her lanky body and 
angular face had gained for her the nickname 
of “ Gawky Kathie.” She was a bright, cheerful 
girl, happy in doing anybody a favor, and very 
willing to perform a deed of kindness to those 
who needed it. But her gawky way, slap-dash 
manner, muscular strength, and strong addic- 
tion to slang had proved sources of never-end- 
ing trouble to Fea. 

“Her voice is so gruff, her movements are 
so ungainly, her slang is so like Roy’s, that a 
stranger would mistake her for a boy dressed 
in girl’s clothes,” Fea had complained to her 
mother. “ And Roy encourages her at every 
turn.” 

3 


34 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


But the late Mrs. Oakley had only smiled 
indulgently, and quoted the ugly duckling, 
and said that at any rate Kathleen’s heart was 
of sterling gold, and that the slang would by 
degrees be put away when softer, more femi- 
nine ideas came to take its place. 

Kathie seated herself now on Roy’s bed with 
her long legs outstretched, her arms akimbo, 
and her lips pursed up for a whistle. 

“ Roy was looking a bit in the dumps,” she 
said suddenly. “ And what were these so red 
for ? ” touching her eyes. 

“ The ever-present loss, Kathie,” was Wulf’s 
reply. 

A twitch came to Kathie’s big mouth, and 
a suspicion of redness to her own eyelids, but 
the one disappeared in a sudden whistle— an 
ear-splitting imitation of Roy — and the other 
was brushed hastily away. 

Wulf got up and stretched himself. Then 
he began washing his hands and brushing his 
hair vigorously. Kathie watched him in silence 
for a while, then said : “ The dinner bell won’t 
ring for another hour.” 

“ I know ; but I want to have half-an-hour’s 
study at least before it does.” 

Kathie dragged her long limbs upwards. 
“ That’s a hint that I must take myself off, eh ? 
It’s either study or hospital. You work too 
hard, Wulf, that’s a fact.” 

“ Not harder than my strength allows,” re- 


FEA MEANS WELL.’ 


35 


turned Wulf, simply. ‘‘ And it is right that I 
should try to pass as high as I possibly can, 
for the dad’s sake, if not for my own.” 

“ I’ll take two to one in shillings with you 
that you do pass high.” 

For answer, Wulfric looked steadily at her 
with hair-brush suspended. Then he said 
quietly: “You’re not growing less slangy, 
Kathie.” 

The color rushed to Kathie’s cheeks, and 
she bent her head in a shamefaced way. Un- 
known to the rest, she was trying hard to drop 
the slang expressions which seemed to rise so 
readily to her lips. Some of her mother’s last 
words to her she would never forget : “ My 
Kathie will try to grow up a good womanly 
woman, leaving behind her all the ungirlish ut- 
terances which, on occasions, she indulges in.” 
And poor Kathie was trying very hard ; but now 
and again, as at this time, one of Roy’s familiar 
expressions would crop up, and Kathie was 
beginning to blush when notice was taken of it. 

Wulfric carried his books to a small study 
on the ground floor, commonly known by the 
children as “ Wulf’s den.” There he worked 
for some time undisturbed, until a sound of 
scuffling outside the door made him suddenly 
conscious that it had been going on for some 
minutes. 

Then a big thumping ensued, very low down 
on the panels, and a childish voice cried— 


36 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ It’s no use, Nannie, I will go in.” And 
thump, thump, thump came again. 

With regretful glances at his books and a 
half sigh, Wulf rose and, unlocking the door, 
looked out. 

Nannie — a girl of ten — ^was doing her best to 
restrain a small boy of five, who had turned 
his attention from the door to kicking her with 
all his strength, his face aglow with temper. 

“ For shame, Ronnie ; stop kicking directly.” 
Wulf’s voice was so stern that the young cul- 
prit looked up in some amazement, and then, 
putting on a most wheedling smile, he dropped 
his hold of his sister and came sidling up to 
Wulfric, with arms outstretched. 

“ Jest wanted to say good-night,” he said en- 
gagingly. 

“ He had no right to come when Kathie said 
you were studying,” said Nannie. “ I met him 
creeping along the passage, and tried to stop 
him, but he is so obstinate.” 

“ T’arn’t obs’nate,” retorted Ronnie with the 
confidence of a spoiled child. Then he added 
with the coaxing smile which few could resist, 
“ Knowed you’d let me in,” and rubbed his 
curly head caressingly against Wulf’s leg. 

“ But I won’t, my little man,” returned the 
elder brother, with unusual firmness. “ Don’t 
you know how naughty it was of you to do what 
Kathie said you were not to ? You disturbed 
me very much. I couldn’t get on with what I 


FEA MEANS WELL/ 


37 


was doing, but had to get up to see what all 
that noise was about. And what did I see ? 
You were kicking Nannie, who is so good to 
you. No gentleman kicks, Ronnie. Did you 
ever see father kick any one ? 

A giggle from Nan. But Ronald put on 
his considering cap for a while, then answered 
gravely, “ No.” 

“ Then neither must you. I’ll not say good- 
night to you now ; Fll come up when you’re in 
bed. Don’t cry, Ronnie,” as the boy’s blue 
eyes filled with tears and the corners of his 
mouth began to turn down. “ You must learn 
not to kick, my boy, and to be obedient to 
your sisters.” 

Nannie’s face looked almost as overcast as 
did Ronnie’s, and she began a series of pan- 
tomimic gestures behind his back, indicative 
of her displeasure at the elder brother’s pro- 
ceedings. But Wulf was inexorable. 

“ No tears, Ronnie ; that’s being a cry baby,” 
he said, steadily, as the two chubby fists were 
rammed into the blue eyes. “ You know 
what you told me last Sunday about trying to 
leave off baby ways.” 

“ You’ll be at dinner when I’m in bed,” 
moaned the boy. “ And it’s Saturday ! ” 

“ No ; if you go off straight now, you’ll be 
in bed before the bell rings, and I shall come 
to you as soon as I hear from Nannie that you 
are ready for me.” 


38 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Without another word the little fellow 
turned and fled down the passage, Nannie only 
staying to bestow one last parting look of re- 
proach upon the elder brother before follow- 
ing him. 

And Wulf entered his den again, but his 
mind would not center itself upon his books. 

“ Oh ! mother, mother ! ” he cried inwardly, 
“ is that how you would have treated your baby 
boy, or have I been too stern, as Nannie’s face 
so plainly showed ? I want to be in all things 
what you have been, for I greatly fear that we 
shall all miss you even more than I had thought 
it possible.'’ 


CHAPTER IV. 

FEA EXERTS HER AUTHORITY. 

Moderation is the silken string running through the 
pearl chain of all virtues.” 

” Christian Moderation,'''^ — Bishop Hall. 

“ Our sweetest smile should brighten home.” 

Anon. 

It had been an institution of Mrs. Oakley's 
that one evening in the week all the children 
except Ronald should join her husband and 
herself at their late dinner. 

The doctor had at first made his objections 
on the score of injuring their health, but his 
wife had overruled him in the matter, by de- 
claring that the dinner that day should be of 
the plainest and simplest — two courses only — 
and that it would be served up half-an-hour 
earlier than usual. 

“ It will be something for them to look for- 
ward to,” the gentle mother had said ; “ some 
pleasant little thing to happen at the end of 
the week, and I will make it my duty to let 
that Saturday evening pass as happily as I can, 
without jar or temper.” 

And this plan she had carried out with true 
39 


40 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


faithfulness, even to the time of her death ; 
for when too ill to sit at the table, she would 
lie on the sofa in the dining-room, where the 
charm of her presence was felt by all. 

Thus, then, Saturday was looked upon by 
the young Oakleys as a day to be longed for. 
After the early breaking-up of school, there 
was a rushing home and the early tea in the 
schoolroom ; then the preparation of lessons 
for Monday — for all were supposed to be done 
before dinner — the remainder of the evening 
being spent in such amusements as each child 
fancied, Mrs. Oakley herself taking part in 
everything that was proposed. 

For the four last Saturdays the same habit 
had been kept up, but with what a difference ! 
The gentle figure that had infused so much life 
and happiness throughout the evening was 
gone, and everything seemed to lack the sun- 
shine which her presence had shed. 

As the dinner bell rang out that Saturday, 
doors from all parts of the house burst open, 
and the young Oakleys made their appearance 
like so many bees from the hive. 

The clatter and clamor from boots and 
tongues was inspiring to any one void of nerves. 
And in a few moments there had assembled 
round the dining-room table as healthy and 
hearty a set of children as anybody might 
wish to see. 

Dr. Oakley’s seat at the head of the table 


FEA EXERTS HER AUTHORITY. 41 

was vacant, and all the young faces fell as they 
saw it. 

“ Is father not coming this evening ?” Wulf 
asked, entering the dining-room last of all, 
after having paid his promised visit to Ronald 
in bed. 

“ No ; he was sent for shortly after you left 
the surgery,” returned Fea, her quick eyes 
roaming from one to the other of the younger 
members of the family. “ Gyneth, your fingers 
are all over ink. I can’t have you sit down to 
the table in that style.” 

Gyneth’s fair face clouded, and she looked 
at her fingers half dubiously. 

“ If you had done half as much writing as 
she has,” retorted Roy with some heat, “ your 
fingers would have been a jolly sight inkier.” 

“ I was not speaking to you,” replied Fea, 
in calm tones. “ And you, Roy, have not 
brushed your hair. You knew father wasn’t 
here, and that is why you thought you could 
impose upon me.” 

I never knew it,” returned Roy, hotly. 
“ I’ve been up to my eyes in my Latin, and so 
has Gyneth, and we hadn’t time to get our- 
selves as thoroughly spick and span as usual.” 

“ I shall not allow you both to sit down with- 
out making yourselves presentable. I insist on 
your going at once.” And Fea leaned back in 
her chair with a look of determination on her 
face. 


42 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ You may not allow, and you may insist, 
but ril sit here all the same,” returned Roy, 
“ for I am presentable.” 

Gyneth, with a slight flush on her sweet- 
looking face, rose directly, in spite of having 
her dress beneath the table twitched by Kathie, 
as an intimation to brave it out. 

Wulf, with a non-committal face, continued 
carving the beef before him, in his father’s 
stead, as if nothing unpleasant was going on. 

“ Roy, I am waiting for you to follow Gyneth,” 
said Fea, after a few minutes spent in uncer- 
tainty as whether she should appeal to Wulf 
to uphold her authority. 

“ I am sorry if you are, for you’ll have to 
wait a deuce of a time,” was Roy’s reply. 

An angry flush came into Fea’s face, and she 
darted a swift glance at Wulf. But the elder 
brother was carving diligently, taking extra 
care to cut the slices thin and evenly. Fea’s 
flush rose higher, as a titter from Nannie and 
another from Kathleen struck her ear. 

“ Wulf,” she exclaimed in a pained voice, 
“ are you going to sit there and hear Roy defy 
me ?” 

“ I don’t know why you have suddenly set 
yourself up to lecturing and ordering every one 
as you have done lately,” exclaimed Roy. 

“Neither do I,” chimed in Kathleen — 
“ making yourself so beastly disagreeable.” 

“ Father has deputed me to look after you 


FEA EXERTS HER AUTHORITY. 


43 


all, and you ought to show more gratitude than 
you do when you consider that if I hadn’t under- 
taken such a herculean task, you would have 
had a stranger in my place— a kind of working 
housekeeper,” finished up Fea, as a sort of 
parting shot. 

“ She might have been a sight pleasanter to 
deal with than you,” returned Roy ; and the 
two girls giggled again. 

“Wulf ?” demanded Fea, with a sound as 
of tears in her voice. 

“Yes, Fea?” 

“ Are you not going to say anything to Roy 
when you hear him being so rude and so — so — 
disobedient ? ” — a choke and a very undignified 
gulp. 

“ Roy, old chap, you’ll do as you have been 
asked ? ” 

“ Not asked, Wulf — ordered, you mean.” 

“ I say asked, Roy. Will you not do what 
you have been asked ? ” 

“ I do nothing for being ordered. No, Wulf, 
I sit here. There is nothing much the matter 
with my hair. No one would have noticed 
anything was amiss but Fea, and she is on the 
look-out for wrong things, hoping and praying 
fervently that she may be able to pounce down 
upon some one just to air her new authority. 
I shall not get up from the table just to gratify 
a whim of hers.” 

That it was a whim had been very evident 


44 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


to Wulfric all along ; and if questioned, he 
would have been obliged honestly to confess 
that he saw nothing amiss with Roy's personal 
appearance, it being a matter about which the 
boy was always especially particular. 

However, he was not going to have Fea’s 
new-born authority flouted in such a flagrant 
fashion without one word of reprimand, ill- 
advised as he considered Fea’s manner to have 
been from the first. 

“ I am sorry, Roy,” he returned. “ For the 
sake of harmony, if for no other reason, I 
should like you to do it.” 

But Roy’s obstinacy was aroused, and noth- 
ing on earth would make him get up. And 
just at that moment Gyneth came in, sweet, 
rosy, and smiling, holding up a pair of well- 
washed hands. 

“ The ink stains were just too dreadful. I 
had to scrub away with the pumice-stone till 
the skin nearly came off,” she announced sit- 
ting down as calmly as if the air were not 
charged with thunder. 

“ Thank you, Gyneth,” said Wulf, quietly. 

And if anything had been needed to make 
Roy feel some misgiving as to his share in 
the unpleasantness, the elder brother’s quiet 
thanks supplied the want. 

Fea’s next words were said as sharply as 
she could utter them. 

“ You will have no pudding this evening. 


FEA EXERTS HER AUTHORITY. 


45 


Roy, as a punishment. Your favorite pudding, 
too— blanc-mange with raspberry jam.” 

But Roy was past caring. His misery was 
complete at seeing Wulfs grave, pained face. 
And when the blanc-mange was placed on the 
table, and Kathie tried to slip a spoonful from 
her plate to his empty one, he put her hand 
gently aside and shook his head. 

The rest of the meal was carried on in al- 
most unbroken silence. Fea was hurt and 
angry that her good offices had met with such 
base ingratitude, and, though usually a cheer- 
ful talker, could now only brood over her trials, 
whilst Wulf was sick at heart at each glance at 
Roy’s clouded face and empty plate. 

“ Oh ! mother, mother ! ” was his second 
inward cry that day ; “ it would never have 
happened had you been here, and I feel I am 
worse than useless to avert disasters.” 

“ I think,” said Fea, as the three younger 
Oakleys left the table for the more cheerful 
atmosphere of the schoolroom, and Wulf was 
preparing to dive into his den — “ I think that 
Roy intends to make himself as unmanageable 
as he possibly can. What do you think 
about it ? ” 

“ I was sorry you chose this evening, above 
all other evenings — to take him to task about 
anything, and Gyneth, too, who, however, be- 
haved very sweetly and was an example to 
Roy. Let us, under this new regime, dear 


46 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Fea, regard our Saturdays as something too 
sacred to quarrel upon. In memory of those 
other Saturdays, when she was with us, let us 
overlook trifles, and help to make that day — as 
she liked to make it — a happy preparation for 
the Sunday that follows it. Don’t you think 
so, dear Fea ?” 

But Fea’s look of hurt dignity told him she 
had not taken the recent event in the same 
light that he had. So, with a brotherly pat, 
Wulf passed into his den for a final tidying up 
of his books, before joining the others in the 
schoolroom. 

And Fea went to seek Virginie, with sur- 
prise and hurt dignity at her heart. 

“ Is Wulf going to be against me, too ! 
she thought. “ And I had counted so on his 
help ! " 


CHAPTER V. 


COUSIN FELICIA. 

“ The ordinary use of acquaintance is the sharing of talk, 
news, mirth, together ; but sorrow is the right of a friend, as a 
thing nearer the heart, and to be delivered of it.” 

Bishop Selden. 

“ And so you have appointed Fea to look 
after the well-being of yourself and of your 
household,” said Cousin Felicia Danvers, lean- 
ing back in her comfortable easy-chair, and 
regarding Dr. Oakley with a half smile in her 
bright black eyes. 

“ Yes. Did she tell you ? ” questioned the 
doctor, eagerly. 

“ No,” laughed Cousin Felicia, “ she didn’t ; 
but the others did. I have had Gyneth, and 
Roy, and Kathie, here to-day. And, by the 
by, they wouldn’t tell me what kept Nan from 
coming too. Do you know the reason why ? ” 

Dr. Oakley shook his head, and Cousin 
Felicia regarded him fixedly. She was a fine, 
handsome-looking old lady, many years senior 
to the doctor’s late wife, to whom she claimed 
distant cousinship. It was a fancy of her own 
that her cousin’s children should claim the 
47 


48 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


same relationship — one degree further off — and 
address her as Cousin Felicia. They were 
fond of her, and all a little in awe of her, for 
she could be blunt and outspoken enough 
when things did not meet with her approval, 
and she was apt to look upon the late Mrs. 
Oakley’s children as if they had been her own. 
She had been a widow for many years, and her 
only child had met his death by drowning, 
when but a lad at school. 

Fea was fond of saying that his death had 
“soured Cousin Felicia;” but that was only 
when the old lady had been more outspoken 
than usual, and had taken Fea to task in some- 
thing she had either done or left undone that 
day. 

She lived in a pretty house on Beacon Hill, 
not a quarter-of-an-hour’s walk from the doc- 
tor’s home, and her beautiful garden, with its 
wealth of roses — red, pink, white and yellow — 
had become famous for miles round. 

Dr. Oakley had dropped in, as he usually 
did, for a cup of tea before continuing his 
rounds further on, and Mrs. Danvers had 
accorded him her usual welcome. 

“You don’t know why Nan didn’t come? 
Well, no more do I, although I invited her with 
the others. I wouldn’t let every little thing 
escape my notice, Arnold, if I were you. Now 
that the children’s mother has gone from them, 
you must take more upon yourself than you 


COUSIN FELICIA. 


49 


did during her lifetime. She relieved you 
of much while she lived. You must now act 
as mother as well as father to them, and not 
go about with your eyes shut as you have done 
heretofore." 

Truly, Cousin Felicia Danvers was out- 
spoken, but the doctor did not resent it. He 
thoroughly admired the old lady both for her 
honest speaking as well as for the sterling good 
qualities which he knew lay concealed beneath 
that blunt candor. 

He sighed as she spoke, and looked earnestly 
at her. “ She took everything off my shoulders," 
he said, at length, speaking slowly and reflec- 
tively, “ especially with regard to the children. 
I have grown to know them and their characters 
through her, and I feel sure that she has de- 
scribed them faithfully to me." 

“ Do you know Wulfs character? " 

“ Don’t I ? No one better," returned the 
father, with a proud intonation in his voice. 
“ But Wulf, I may say, I have judged a good 
deal for myself, for he is perforce more with 
me than are any of the others. A loving heart 
has Wulf and— I believe— a conscience void of 
offense towards God and towards his fellow 
men." 

Right.” Cousin Felicia nodded, well 
pleased ; for the description had accorded 
well with her knowledge of the doctor’s eldest 
son. “ His strong, good face gives the key- 

4 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


SO 

note to it,” she said. “And Fea? What of 
her ? ” 

A cloud flitted over Dr. Oakley’s fine face. 
“ I know less of Fea than I do of any of my 
other children,” he replied, slowly ; “ and I 
confess that I am ashamed to have to own it 
of my eldest daughter. You say truly that I 
must give up going round with my eyes shut 
where my children are concerned. I have no 
one now to paint their characters for me with 
a faithful and true hand.” 

“ But what was Jessica’s description of Fea ?” 
persisted the old lady. 

“ You drive me too far, Felicia. Let it rest, 
when I tell you that I will take your advice as 
earnestly as it is given, and try to study my 
children for myself.” 

“ You could give me Wulfric’s character 
fast enough.” 

“ Wulfric I have had opportunities of study- 
ing. I shall tell you what I think of Fea when 
I have studied her more carefully.” 

“ I admire you for trying to hold back, 
Arnold ; ” and the old lady’s eyes looked 
searchingly into his. But, believe me, I will 
not give up loving Fea one whit less for all 
that you may tell me about her. You say you 
do not know her. I think you know her as 
well as I do. Shall I paint her ? Well ” — 
without waiting for his reply — “ she has many 
good qualities, for she is true and affectionate 


COUSIN FELICIA. 


SI 

— there is no deceit in Fea — but she mars those 
qualities by being self-opinionated and having 
too much pride m her own powers ; her self- 
confidence is — well, it is just amazing, and 
sometimes — abominable.” She paused, and 
met the doctor’s eyes. “ Well, is that a correct 
description of her ? ” 

He nodded. “ She is all that you say, and 
it is for that reason I have given permission 
for her to take up the reins of government. 
If I had refused and thwarted her in her wish 
— and it was a very earnest one — she would 
have moped and fretted and looked upon her- 
self as being ill-used. Whereas, now I have 
given her some scope for her powers of man- 
agement, and it remains to be seen whether 
she possesses them as she thinks she does. 
She is, as it were, on probation for six months. 
If at the end of that time she fails, then I am 
at liberty to choose some one else to fill her 
place.” 

“And that one ? ” 

“ Would be my wife’s sister — the children’s 
Aunt Cicely.” 

“And she would undertake the post?” 

“ Gladly and cheerfully. She has no other 
ties, you know. I have been in communica- 
tion with her about it. She is living for the 
present in the south of France, and she agrees 
with me that Fea should have her trial. If 
she fails in her management at the end of that 


52 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


time, or dislikes the thraldom of it, Cicely has 
promised to come to my aid. And nothing 
would please the children more than to know 
that their aunt had consented to take up her 
abode with us ; for their affection for her is only 
second to what it was for their mother.” 

Cousin Felicia looked at him for a minute 
with amusement and admiration strongly 
blended. Then she spoke slowly and emphat- 
ically— 

“ Well, Arnold, I do not think I gave you 
credit for so much discernment and so much 
good common-sense. I did not think you 
possessed either.” 

He laughed ; and the old hearty laugh, 
which she had not heard since the death of 
his wife, did her kind heart good. 

“ Then I have raised myself a little in your 
estimation, Felicia. I am glad to hear it. I 
rightly deserve your censure for not observing 
more the minds and characters of my children. 
You see ” — earnestly — “ Fea has only just left 
school, and I would rather that she occupied 
herself in looking after household matters for 
the time being — even if she does make a hash 
of it— than waste her leisure hours in young 
lady’s frivolities, of which, I am afraid, there 
are too many in this age of ours. It will keep 
her from rushing into those silly pastimes which 
tend more to deteriorate the young girls of the 
present time than to elevate them.” 


COUSIN FELICIA. 


53 


Cousin Felicia nodded, her bright eyes 
aglow with renewed animation. 

“ I withdraw what I said a minute ago, Ar- 
nold. You do not go about with your eyes 
shut. They are very much open— far more so 
than many fathers’. I make my apologies with 
all humility.” 

And as the doctor smiled, she continued : 
“ I thoroughly agree in all that you say. And 
if I can co-operate with you in helping matters 
to run smoothly, you have only to command 
my assistance, and it is yours, as I think you 
well know.” 

Dr. Oakley put out his hand, and took hers 
in his firm, strong grasp. 

“ Thank you, Felicia. And it is for that 
reason that I am here to-day. I want you to 
aid Fea in matters pertaining to the house, 
matters which, as a man, I am ignorant of. 
Give her the wisdom of your advice, and let 
her understand that she has only to come to 
you in times of doubt.” 

Cousin Felicia smiled and shook her head. 

“ I am afraid that Fea is above seeking any 
advice that I may give her. But don’t fear, 
Arnold,” noting the downcast look with which 
the doctor received her words, “ let her ^ gang 
her ain gait ’ for a while. I will, however, 
see that she does not ‘ gang ’ too far, and make 
the lives of those around her uncomfortable. 
It was for that reason I asked you why little 


54 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Nannie did not accompany the rest for tea 
yesterday. They were too loyal to say any- 
thing ; but I had my fears that it was the eldest 
sister that had prevented her, as a punishment 
perhaps for some trifling misdemeanor. She 
must not have too harsh a hold on them, 
Arnold. In trying to elevate Fea’s character 
we must not let the happiness of the others be 
placed in jeopardy. There is such a thing, 
you know, when the rule becomes tyrannical. 
From my post on Beacon Hill I can do much 
to avert catastrophes, but you can do more 
through living on the spot, even though your 
work takes you so much from home. Keep 
an eye on the younger ones occasionally, and 
see that they do not become cowed or deprived 
of innocent pleasures through the unwise rule 
of a young girl trying her wings.” 

“ I will, Felicia. Thank you for warning 
me. I knew I could trust to you. When 
Jessica lay dying” — the doctor’s lips twitched 
— “ she begged me to place firm reliance on 
your support ; and you see, dear friend, I have 
lost but little time in coming to you for it. 
You were my wife’s dearest friend, and that I 
can never forget.” 

The bright, black eyes of the old lady oppo- 
site him softened and grew misty. In silent 
sympathy she held out her hand, and as he 
took it, rising at the same time to take his 
departure, she said briskly— 


COUSIN FELICIA. 


55 


“ Come for a moment to see my roses. I 
have a great number of new ones. I think 
we are going to have an early spring, for every- 
thing is shooting so fast. I must give some 
rose parties in the Summer to cheer our young 
folks.” 

She must surely have been an old lady of 
moods, for when in the rose garden her brisk- 
ness suddenly flagged, and looking up into the 
doctor’s face, she laid a pleading hand upon 
his arm, and said wistfully, without a trace of 
her former blunt manner — 

“ Have you thought the matter out, Arnold ?” 

Dr. Oakley stopped in his walk and looked 
at her. The expression of his face told her he 
knew what she meant. With great gentleness 
he laid his disengaged hand upon her as it lay 
trembling on his arm. 

“I have, Felicia,” he said quietly; and it 
does not meet with my approval at all.” 

“ Oh ! don’t say that ! ” she cried out. “ It 
is my only hope and comfort. I have thought 
it out, and planned and planned until it has 
become very feasible to me.” 

“ It does not present itself in the same light 
to me,” returned the doctor, still very gently. 

She looked wistfully round, as if afraid of 
being overheard, and then said in a half 
whisper — 

‘'There is that thatched house called The 
Maze ” 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


S6 


The doctor shuddered visibly. “ Too close 
— altogether too close. And, besides, it is not 
shut in enough.” 

“ Hear me out,” pleaded Mrs. Danvers, very 
unlike her usual manner. “ The legend is that 
it is haunted. That character can be kept up, 
and it will help us considerably, Arnold.” Her 
voice ended in a piteous wail. 

But the doctor remained unmoved. His 
face took a grave expression. “ It will not do, 
Felicia. If I gave in it would be against my 
better judgment.” 

“ But you must give in — you must, Arnold. 
No harm will come of it. How could harm 
come ? You will be close at hand — and you 
can keep a strict watch ” 

“ How can I at a distance of nearly two miles 
off ? ” interrupted the doctor. 

“ And you can get a female attendant,” con- 
tinued Mrs. Danvers, not heeding the inter- 
ruption. “I’ve thought it all out so often of 
late that I know it can easily be managed with- 
out danger to any one ; and oh ! what a com- 
fort it will be to me. We will not talk more 
of it just now. I always get so upset. But I 
know you will come to my way of thinking.” 

Dr. Oakley said nothing more. Cousin 
Felicia’s manner betokened that she was not 
in a fit state to hear anything further on the 
matter. Only the doctor’s face still retained 
its grave expression, and all the way home the 


COUSIN FELICIA. 


57 


bright, black eyes with their mist of tears were 
before him; but the remembrance did not 
soften him ; rather did it make him impatient, 
as he murmured — 

“To think that Felicia of all women should 
be so weak and foolish in this one matter ; she 
who is so sensible and clear-witted upon every 
subject in the world but this. It is preposter- 
ous ! I cannot see my way to doing as she 
wishes, much as I would like to for her sake. 
I think I must take Wulf into my confidence 
and hear his opinion. I should have done so 
before, only that I thought she had put the 
affair from her after what I told her last time. 
But women are so tenacious, and Felicia shows 
she is no exception to the rule.*' 


CHAPTER VI. 


COUSIN FELICIA PAYS A VISIT. 

“ . . . . ’Tis known he could speak Greek 

As naturally as pigs squeak : 

That Latin was no more difficile 
Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle.” 

Samuel Butler. 

It was eleven o’clock in the morning, and 
the piano was rattling away merrily. 

In accordance with the promise made to her 
father, Fea neglected neither music nor draw- 
ing, in spite of all the varied duties she had 
taken upon herself. She was, indeed, as busy 
a young girl as could be found in that pleasure- 
loving town of Hamborough. 

Twelve o’clock struck, and the piano was 
still going. It was a difficult piece she was 
learning, and she determined to conquer it 
that morning. The door opened slowly, and 
Ronald’s curly head looked in. 

“ Ready, Fea ?” he said. 

“ Not yet, Ronnie,” she returned. “ Run 
away and play a little longer.” 

“ Virginie says the sun is at its best, and 
she’d like me to go out while it’s warm.” 

Fea’s head moved a little stiffly. “ Tell Vir- 
S8 


COUSIN FELICIA PAYS A VISIT. 


59 


ginie I shall take you out when I choose to ; 
and as I have not finished practising yet, you 
must wait for me.” 

Ronnie withdrew to report her words, and 
Fea played diligently on, forgetting in her 
interest how time was flying. The sound of 
Virginie’s and Ronald’s voices in the hall, 
followed by the quick shutting of the hall door, 
roused her to a sense of having exceeded her 
time. Through the window she caught a sight 
of the little boy running along by Virginie’s 
side, and a look of contrition crossed her face, 
quickly followed by a frown. 

How absurd of Virginie to give up her 
morning, which she told me would be so busy, 
just to take Ronnie for a walk ! ” she exclaimed 
in an angry tone. “ I wish she would allow 
me to be the judge of such matters. I told 
her I would take him myself this morning, but 
I had not counted on having to do battle with 
such a hard piece. I have conquered it, how- 
ever and Fea looked triumphantly at the 
piano — and Ronnie could have waited till this 
afternoon, when I would have taken him out 
with pleasure. Really, Virginie is too tiresome ! 
Only that we have had her such a long time 
I would suggest to father to dismiss her. 

“ She rather presumes on her place : but that 
is not unusual with old servants.” 

She moved from the window as she spoke, 
but not before she had caught a glimpse of a 


6o 


FEODORA’S FAILURE. 


trim little pony carriage turning the corner of 
the street. 

“ There is Cousin Felicia ! What a dread- 
ful nuisance ! I wish I had gone out earlier 
with Ronald.” 

There was no help for it. Cousin Felicia 
was coming to Littlefield House, and she must 
submit to a cross examination as to how every- 
body and everything was faring under her — 
Fea’s— rule. If anything could make her wish 
to throw up the task she had taken upon her- 
self, it was these visits of Cousin Felicia’s, 
which provoked her temper. 

Why the sight of the bright, comely old face 
under its crown of silvery hair should have 
such a bad effect upon Fea’s temper, Fea alone 
could have told, certainly no one else. 

Trot, trot, trot came the little pony, to stop 
at length at the big iron gates leading to the 
doctor’s house ; and, whilst the little page 
jumped down to hold the pony’s head, Mrs. 
Danvers stepped nimbly out, and made her 
way up the broad steps to the front door. 

The piano was going rapidly as she rang the 
bell, and the old lady nodded her head with 
approval. 

“ She is a good child at heart. I do hope I 
shall not say anything to-day to upset her, as 
I did last time. But really, it requires more 
tact than I possess to steer clear of all tem- 
pests with Fea.’' 


COUSIN FELICIA PAYS A VISIT. 6i 

“ So glad to hear the piano played so nicely, 
my dear. It is a treat to an old lady who loves 
music, but seldom hears it in her own home ; 
and so saying. Cousin Felicia walked into the 
drawing-room. 

Fea rose directly, and with well-bred polite- 
ness begged her to undo her wrappings and 
stop to luncheon. 

“Well, really, Fea, I think I shall, although 
I had not intended it when I started. It is 
more than a week since I saw anything of you 
all — your father included. Will he be at home, 
do you think ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; father is always home for lunch- 
eon. It is his dinner he is sometimes uncertain 
about. Some patient almost invariably falls 
ill just at that time. It is so tiresome ! ” 

“ The trials of a doctor, my dear. But, ap- 
parently, Wulf is not scared by them, else he 
would not strive to follow in his father’s steps. 
Still, it is bad for the doctor when his meals 
are irregular. I hope you see that he has 
something hot and comfortable on his return 
home ? ” 

Fea’s head began to rear itself up in the way 
that Cousin Felicia peculiarly disliked to see. 

“ Father has not complained yet,” she man- 
aged to say. 

“ Don’t wait for that. He is not one of the 
complaining sort. ‘ Grin and bear it ’ would 
be rather his motto. But ” — seeing that the 


62 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


conversation was veering in the direction she 
least wished it to take — “ perhaps you will not 
mind ringing for some one to tell James outside 
not to stay at Frisk’s head any longer, but to 
drive home and return for me at— what time 
shall I say ? — two o’clock ? ” 

“ No ; stay for tea,” returned Fea, her 
hospitable instincts aroused. “ There is a half- 
holiday at the schools, and the children will 
be so glad to have you for the afternoon.” 

Mrs. Danvers shook her head, albeit her 
face showed pleasure at the second invitation. 

“ You will think I am growing dissipated 
when I say I am going out to tea to Mrs. 
Carew’s this afternoon. But it is a thing that 
rarely happens— luncheon and tea on the same 
day. I am a home-loving bird.” 

“ And no wonder,” returned Fea graciously, 
“ when one considers what a lovely home it is, 
and what a garden ! ” 

“ Ah ! I am proud of my garden. It is that 
that makes me go out so seldom. There is so 
much of varied interest to a garden-lover in 
watching the unfolding of the leaves, and in 
counting the buds bursting on the flowers. 
By the by, I met Virginie with Ronald round 
the corner. It struck me — the little glance I 
had of him — that the child was looking peaky.” 

“ I believe Ronnie is very well indeed. I 
would have taken him out myself only that I 
had my practising to go through. But if 


COUSIN FELICIA PAYS A VISIT. 63 

Virginie had not taken him I would have had 
him walk out with me this afternoon.’* 

“ The mornings are the best in this treach- 
erous weather. Virginie did quite right in 
taking him out while the sun was warm. No ” 
— in a tone half to herself — “ the child certainly 
did not look well, and very likely Virginie has 
noticed it, and is taking due precautions.” 

This was the sort of thing that tried Fea’s 
temper sorely. That she — she who had taken 
her mother’s place— was supposed to have no 
eye for anything serious ; was supposed, in- 
deed, to be going about the home with closed 
ears, and— still worse — closed eyes! It was 
ridiculous 1 truly absurd ! Only that her 
politeness to her visitor upheld her, she would 
have turned her back literally upon Cousin 
Felicia, and continued her music. 

“ Would you like to come upstairs and take 
off your bonnet ? ” she asked coldly. 

Cousin Felicia hesitated, then crinkled up 
her nose just a little. “ If I may take it off 
downstairs,” she began ; “ there’s Wulf’s little 
den : he won’t mind my leaving my bonnet 
there. I find the stairs try me more than 
they used.” 

“ Certainly ; come into Wulf’s study. There 
is a glass there, too ; ” and, so saying, Fea led 
the way to the little room at the side of the 
stairs. 

From here, Mrs. Danvers heard the noisy 


64 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


tramp of boots — Kathie’s the noisiest— as the 
three girls returned from school. 

“ Cousin Felicia here ! '' she heard them 
exclaim, upon hearing from Fea what visitor 
was awaiting them. And then there was an 
onslaught on the door, and the three burst in, 
crowding up the little den. 

“ Cousin Felicia, it is good to see you,” 
cried Kathleen. 

“ Thank you, my dear ; it warms my heart 
to get such a hearty welcome.” 

“ You want a comb for your hair,” said 
gentle Gyneth ; “ Fll fetch you one.” 

And there Wulf found them all on his re- 
turn home, filling up his little room, and laugh- 
ing and chatting with Cousin Felicia, who was 
smoothing the thick, white hair which covered 
her head in short, natural curls. She never 
wore a cap, did this old lady, and was as proud 
as a young girl of what she called her “ wavy 
mane.” 

Fea, passing through the hall on hospitable 
thoughts intent, heard the oft-repeated name of 
“Cousin Felicia,” and shrugged her shoulders 
impatiently. 

“ So absurd to call her by that name. She 
is altogether too old, and is no near relation. 
Mrs. Danvers is the correct name by which 
we should know her ; and I would call her by 
it, only that I know she would object.” 

Dr. Oakley’s look of pleasure at seeing 


COUSIN FELICIA PAYS A VISIT. 65 

Cousin Felicia at the luncheon table was 
enough to show the old lady how true her 
welcome was. 

“ This is a pleasure that you accord us far 
^ too seldom,” he said as he took her hand. “ If 
you only knew how glad we are to have you, 
Felicia, you would come often.” 

“Till you tired of me,” returned the old lady. 
“ No, Arnold, I know how to keep my welcomes 
warm. Ah ! lam glad to see Ronald looking 
the better for his walk,” as the little boy came 
in, rosy and breathless. “The walk has given 
him a nice color.” 

“He has a slight cold— very slight — but it is 
enough to rouse Virginie’s fears, and she would 
have me go upstairs last night to see him in 
bed, for she thought he looked unusually 
flushed.” 

Fea’s lips compressed. She had heard 
nothing of this. Virginie had not come first 
to her, as she should have done. 

Cousin Felicia’s keen eyes caught the vexed 
flush, and she tactfully guided the conversation 
into other channels. It was her first meal in 
that house since the mistress of it had been 
taken away, and the knowledge of it weighted 
her usually good spirits. 

Fea sat in her mother’s place with just the 
suspicion of a cloud upon her face. Cousin 
Felicia had to admit that she made a very fair- 
looking hostess, but her manner wore a stiffer 
5 


66 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


graciousness than the old lady had been used 
to see in the children’s mother. Mrs. Oakley 
had been all charm and softness and sweetness, 
and Cousin Felicia inwardly wished that the 
eldest daughter had followed more after her in 
that respect. 

“ Gyneth, our Latin verses gave me top 
marks to-day,” said Roy, passing his plate up 
as he spoke for another helping of pudding. 

“ Oh ! Roy, I am glad,” was Gyneth’s ex- 
clamation, her face flushing with pleasure. 
“Was that last line quite correct ? You re- 
member, I thought it did not run smoothly.” 

“ It was all right. And it is to you that I 
owe the doctor’s treating me to a little private 
conversation afterwards. I can assure you 
I felt honored, for he does not often stoop 
to do such a thing with such a junior as I 
am.” 

“What did he say ?” cried Kathie and Nan 
in one breath. 

“ Asked me what clever brains always assisted 
in my Latin at home ; and when I modestly 
acknowledged it was my sister’s, he asked, 
which sister — my eldest ? ” 

Here Roy stopped to allow the laughter he 
had brought forth to pass by, Fea laughing as 
heartily as did the rest ; for, as Cousin Felicia 
was glad to note, Fea was as proud as were the 
others of Gyneth’s cleverness, and would never 
have dreamed of robbing her younger sister of 


COUSIN FELICIA PAYS A VISIT. 67 

any praise bestowed upon her by the learned 
Doctor Clayton. 

“ Go on,” cried Kathiewith enjoyment, while 
the sensitive Gyneth shrank into her shell 
at finding herself brought into such public 
notice. 

“You shouldn’t have told him,” she mur- 
mured in a reproachful aside. 

“ Shouldn’t I ? Oh ! thank you. I’m not 
going to take the merit to myself. It is quite 
fair for us juniors to be helped at home, so I 
felt quite safe ; it is the seniors, of course, who 
are not allowed to have assistance. Well, when 
he asked if it was the eldest, I modestly said 
no ; that though she was awfully clever at 
nearly everything else, Latin was not her 
forte ” 

“ You never said that ! ” cried Kathie, laugh- 
ing. 

“ I did. And he laughed. Fancy Doctor 
Clayton laughing ! You can’t think how rum 
he looked. And he seemed to enjoy it, too, 
the good old beggar, and said he hoped not, as 
it would be manifestly unfair for all the brains 
in Hamborough to be centered in one family.” 

“ He was pulling your leg, old fellow,” said 
Wulf, with a smile. 

“ No,” laughed Roy in intense appreciation 
of his tale, “ he was not. He was so awfully 
genial, too, that I was not afraid of him, as I 
usually am. I told him that it was my second 


68 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


sister, Gyneth, who was a perfect dab at Latin ; 
and he said he would like to know her ” 

Here Kathie and Nan groaned in pretended 
terror, and expressed the hope that the blush- 
ing Gyneth might never be placed in such a 
trying position. 

“ The ordeal would be more than you could 
sustain,” murmured Kathie in mock fear. 

“ And no one else could take your place,” 
said Nan, “ for no one would be clever enough 
for him.” 

“ He might wish to have the conversation 
carried on exclusively in Latin,” put in Dr. 
Oakley, entering into the humor of the talk. 

And poor Gyneth shivered in very real fear, 
and begged Roy earnestly not to bring her 
into prominence again, or the forfeit would 
have to be the foregoing of any such assistance 
on her part as she had been accustomed to 
accord him in all his studies. 

The cloud had lifted itself from Fea’s face 
during Roy’s recital, and she eagerly entered 
into the laughter and conversation which fol- 
lowed it. 

And Cousin Felicia, seeing and hearing 
everything, felt the weight lifted off her own 
spirits, and rose with the others from the table, 
feeling that there was every chance of a re- 
newed happiness returning to Dr. Oakley’s 
home. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THISTLING. 

“ That summing up of trifles which we call home.” 

Anon. 

“ Are you going out, Roy ? ” inquired 
Kathie, as they turned from watching Cousin 
Felicia drive away in her little carriage, and 
as she saw Roy take his cap oft the table. 

“ Yes ; I am going to gather thistles for my 
rabbits. They’ve been awfully poorly fed 
lately, and Tyler tells me there are some juicy 
thistles growing in his orchard, if I care to dig 
them up. Come along and help me, will you ? ” 

Kathie shook her head mournfully. “ Don’t 
I wish I could. But I must go into the town 
to buy some seed for my canaries.” 

“ Oh ! hang the canaries, they can wait till 
to-morrow.” 

Oh 1 but they can’t, Roy ; they have no 
seed at all.” 

“ What an awful bore ! There’s the new 
doe Chloe, the one I bought from Griffiths 
the other day, she’s been fed most rottenly, 
and I want to give her a good tuck of thistles. 

69 


70 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Never a sight or a smell of one did Griffiths 
ever give her, you bet.” 

“ How I wish I could come with you ! ” ex- 
claimed Kathie in a mournful tone. “ It’s so 
nasty, trudging off into the town by myself.” 

“ It’s just like you to go and upset a fellow’s 
plans when he had counted on your help ; ” 
and Roy turned from her with a vexed whistle. 

It was like Kathie, but that did not help 
matters ; and they both stood looking at each 
other in comic despair. 

Fea was in the room putting some news- 
papers neatly together. She looked up sud- 
denly. “ I’ll get it for you, Kathie. Fm going 
into the town myself this afternoon. How 
much do you want ? ” 

“Oh ! thank you, Fea. Do you mind car- 
rying half-a-pint of rape seed and another of 
chickweed ? And oh 1 just an ounce of cay- 
enne pepper to mix with the boiled eggs for 
the canary chicks. It gives them such a good 
color.” 

Fea nodded, and Kathie rushed headlong 
upstairs to fetch the required sum of money. 

“ Only a penny left,” she announced in dis- 
may, turning her purse inside out. “ The 
canaries cost an awful lot. I wish father would 
increase our pocket money. He keeps us 
dreadfully short. Come along, Roy, we’ll take 
big baskets, for I should like my Deborah 
to have a tuck of thistles, too. Nan,” she 


THISTLING. 


71 


screamed, as Nannie s dainty little figure passed 
the open door, “ come along and help Roy and 
me to gather thistles in Tyler’s orchard/’ 

“ Fd rather gather primroses,” said Nan 
putting her head in at the door. “ Tyler told 
me yesterday, when he was cutting our hedge 
at the back, that the banks were crowded with 
them.” 

“ Well, you must pick thistles for half-an- 
hour,” returned Roy ; “ and then conde- 
scendingly— “ we’ll allow you to gather prim- 
roses.” 

“ Perhaps I won’t pick thistles at all, but’ll 
pick primroses all the time. Fll take a basket 
only for primroses,” she said decidedly. “ I 
hate gathering thistles, they make one’s hands 
so dirty and stained,” and she looked with con- 
scious pride at her plump little hands, turning 
them about for general inspection. 

“ You’re getting too awfully conceited, Nan,” 
said Kathie, tugging on her out-door jacket. 

You think your hands are pretty, but I can 
assure you they are very ordinary.” 

But Nan still turned them about with a 
conscious smile of admiration, which made 
Roy growl out — “ You’d better put those paws 
of yours away, or Fll spoil them for you. No 
thistles for me, no primroses for you, miss. 
We’ll not take you with us if you don't promise 
to thistle, and father won’t like your going too 
far away by yourself.” 


72 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ ril follow just behind you/’ said Nan, nod- 
ding her head saucily, “ so I’ll be with you all 
the time. And when you leave off gathering 
thistles, ril leave off picking primroses, and 
will walk just behind you home again. Ah, 
ah ! Mister Roy ! ” and Nannie bobbed her 
head triumphantly at her own cunning. 

“ But if we go on our bikes ! What do you 
say to that ? ” asked Roy with cool triumph. 
“ And then you will have to pass the haunted 
house all by yourself. I hope the ghost won’t 
catch you, that’s all.” 

Nannie’s face fell. In the first place, she did 
not possess a bicycle herself, and knew how 
useless it would be for her to attempt to follow 
the riders. She dared not go independently of 
the others for fear of going against her father’s 
wishes, and — greatest fear of all — she’d have 
to pass the thatched house called The Maze ! 
Nannie shivered. • The ghost was always sup- 
posed to walk about when least expected. 
Supposing it came up to her and attacked her 
all alone ! 

She stood winking her round eyes and won- 
dering how she could give in with sufficient 
dignity, for she dearly loved to spend some 
time amongst the primroses, and Tyler had 
raised her expectations to the very highest by 
his descriptions of their numbers. 

Kathie good-naturedly came to her aid. 

“XjO on, Nan, don’t be such a muff. Roy’s 


THISTLING. 


73 


only asking you to give up half-an-hour for the 
thistles, and you can spend all the rest of the time 
over the prims. Of course, shell come, Roy.” 

“ Very well,” replied Nan truly grateful for 
Kathie’s assistance ; “ 111 go, and get ready ; ” 
and she turned away quickly to avoid seeing 
the wink which she knew Roy would bestow 
on Kathie at her expense. 

Fea was still dressing to go out to the town, 
when she saw through her bedroom window 
the three starting off with big baskets slung 
over their shoulders. Gyneth was not with 
them, so when she was ready, Fea looked in 
at the schoolroom to find the second sister 
immersed in reading. 

“ Gyneth, Tm going into the town to buy 
some things. If Virginie asks where Ronald 
is, tell her I have taken him out with me, will 
you ? ” 

Gyneth’s head was raised in deep thought 
from her book : “ All right,” she answered 
dreamily. 

Ronnie was soon captured and borne off to 
be dressed. 

“ I don’t think I want to go out, Fea,” he 
expostulated. 

“Yes, you do. You know you always like 
to go out walking with me,” returned Fea. 

“ But I’ve had my walk with Virginie, and 
I don’t want any more.” 

“ I know best, dear. It's good for you to 


74 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


have plenty of walks. We will go into the 
town first, and then, perhaps, if you are a good 
boy, well come home by the park and see the 
swans on the water.” 

The swans were always attractive to Ronnie. 
His irresolution vanished and he was as eager 
to be gone as Fea was to take him. 

The house seemed very quiet to Virginie as 
the half-hours went by, and her needle flew 
in and out of the little warm garment she was 
making for Ronnie. 

“ There ! ” she said at length, holding it up 
with some satisfaction, though there was no one 
else to witness her handiwork — “ I consider 
that’s a good piece of work done, and that dear 
child will sleep all the warmer for it to-night. 
I will put it to air by the schoolroom fire.” 

Bearing it off in triumph, she entered the 
schoolroom to see only Gyneth curled up on 
the window seat, her head buried in her book. 

“Well, I never. Where can he have got 
to ! ” she exclaimed. “ I left him playing here 
happily enough. Miss Gyneth, dear, do you 
know where Master Ronald has gone ? ” 

“ Ronald ? No, I don’t know,” and Gyneth’s 
head went down again. 

“ Well, that’s strange. I told him he wasn’t 
to leave this room. He’s got a bit of a cold on 
his chest, and I don’t want it to get worse by 
his scampering in and out of the house.” 

“ Hm-hm-hm,” returned Gyneth, without, 


THISTLING. 


75 


however, paying any attention to what was 
being said. 

Virginie was sweet-tempered as a rule, but 
at times she could become exasperated, more 
especially when the health of her flock was in 
question. 

“ Miss Gyneth, dear, I wish you wouldn’t say 
‘ Hm-hm-hm ’ in that way. Don’t you know 
where Master Ronald is ? ” 

“ Ronnie ? ” replied Gyneth, now fully 
roused. “ Oh ! yes ; Ronnie has gone out 
with Fea. She told me to tell you so if you 
asked. I beg pardon, Virginie, but really, it 
had gone out of my head, and I didn’t think 
what you were asking me at first.” 

“ Gone out with Miss Fea ! ” exclaimed 
Virginie aghast. “ Gone out with that cold on 
him, and it’s blowing a bitter east now ! ” 

“ Oh ! he won’t hurt, Virginie. You coddle 
us all up too much. Besides, I don’t think he 
is really ill ; he was looking so well at dinner 
to-day, with quite a bright color. Cousin Felicia 
said.” 

“ Yes, it was from the walk. I am the only 
one who knows how delicate that child is — I am 
the master— now that she is gone.” Virginie’s 
voice took a suspicious huskiness. “ To take 
him out in this wind ! Well, the foolishness 
of some people beats me ! ” 

Gyneth lost all interest in her book. Vir- 
ginie’s tragic tones alarmed her. 


76 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

Is there really danger in his going out,. 
Virginie ? Oh ! I hope you are mistaken. Are 
you afraid of croup For that was what the 
family in general feared for Ronald. 

“ I am afraid of croup, and of a lot of other 
things, Miss Gyneth. I wish I had known that 
Miss Fea was going to take him out. This 
morning’s walk in the sunshine was a very dif- 
ferent thing from taking him this afternoon in 
this wind. Listen to it now ! ” And, in truth, 
the wind whistled past the gables of the old 
house in a shrieking blast, to die down for a 
while and rise again with greater vehemence 
than before. 

Gyneth shivered, and shutting her book rose 
to her feet impetuously. 

“ I wish I had known which way they were 
going. I would go after them and hurry them 
up. But oh ! dear, they must have gone ages 
ago, for I never know how time flies when I am 
reading. Fea said she was going to the town, 
but she might return home by the Grove, or 
the Park, or Claremont Road, or any other 
road than the one she went. She could never 
have known that Ronnie was brewing for a 
cold, Virginie, or she would not have taken 
him.” 

Virginie could only shake her head, and 
stand watching at the window, where she was 
joined by Gyneth. The thistle pickers could 
be seen coming homewards, laden with spoils 


THISTLING. 


77 


of their own gathering ; and lagging behind 
came Nannie, bearing a huge basket of prim- 
roses, which she kept regarding with tender 
affection. 

But the two for whom Virginie was watching 
were nowhere in sight. And then at last 
Gyneth, who had popped on her spectacles for 
longer sight, spied them. Fea had hold of 
Ronnie’s hand, and seemed to be dragging 
him along. 

They were both in readiness to meet them 
at the open hall door, standing there in total 
disregard of the bitter blast which swept 
through, and chilled them to the bone. And 
Fea thought she would never forget the look 
that Virginie cast upon her before first seizing 
on Ronnie. 

“ Such a dreadful wind has suddenly sprung 
up,” she said, hurriedly. “ If I had known it 
was going to blow so hard, I would not have 
ventured to take him out. I hope he will not 
suffer for it.” 

And just then Ronnie sneezed violently, and 
coughed that hard cough which always went 
to Virginie’s heart when she heard it. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

RONNIE’S ILLNESS. 

“Thou must be true thyself, 

If thou the truth would’st teach.” 

H. Bonar. 

“ What will it bring — this unseen day ? ” 

Marianne Farninghaniy 

Ronnie was ill that night— dangerously ill. 
And the next night he was worse. Dr. Oakley’s 
face was grave, and the children’s voices were 
hushed. 

Fea s misery was very nearly complete. If 
anything happens to Ronnie — if he dies, whis- 
pered the voice of conscience, it will be your 
hand that has done it. She prayed hard, dur- 
ing the days that followed, that the delicate 
little life might be spared ; but through all 
her prayers ran one uppermost thought— a 
fervent one — that nobody would remember 
that— in her own hearing, and in the hearing 
of all the others — her father had mentioned to 
Cousin Felicia that the child had not been well 
two days before. 

She was satisfied that Virginie had no knowl- 
edge that this had been said in her presence. 
Indeed, she had overheard the good old nurse 
blaming herself for not having made Fea cogni- 
78 


RONNIE’S ILLNESS. 


79 


zant of the fact. But never once did Fea let on 
that she had heard of it, and, hearing it, had 
believed it to be one of Virginie’s old fiddle- 
faddle ideas, and as such to be disregarded. 

No ; Fea’s misery did not carry her to such 
an extent as that. The old pride in her own 
powers, the old self-confidence which made her 
doubt she could do anything wrong, held her 
back from confessing what she knew she ought 
to confess. 

No, she need not tell her father that her 
causeless anger against Virginie that morning 
had led her to take the little brother out against 
all odds, and in spite of what she had heard. 

True, she did not know that the wind would 
change to that bitter east. And it was that, she 
assured herself over and over again, that had 
caused the mischief. Nothing else ; oh ! no, 
nothing else. And she would fling herself 
down on her knees again, and pray harder than 
before that the precious little life — the mother’s 
baby boy— might not be taken from them. 

“ Fea.” 

She heard a whisper of her name in the dark, 
and in an instant had risen to her feet, and 
lighted the candle which stood on the little 
table by her side. 

It was Kathleen standing with bare feet, and 
only a shawl thrown over her nightdress. 

“ What is it ? Is he worse ? ” The words 
were forced from Fea’s white lips. 


8o 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ I don’t know. I came to ask you. Father 
has just been for Gyneth to take Virginie’s 
place while she had a little sleep. He says 
he’s afraid Virginie will get knocked up, and 
that if Ronnie is not better to-morrow, he will 
get in a professional nurse.” 

It was all news to Fea. Her father had not 
come and told her this. He had not asked her 
help, but had asked Gyneth s — the dreamy, 
bookworm Gyneth. But her heart was too 
sore, too miserable for any resentment such as 
she would have felt had not conscience been 
speaking loudly at the time. 

Perhaps — and here she caught her breath 
suddenly — perhaps her father, by some means, 
had found out ! If so, he would not now con- 
sider her worthy of any further confidence. 
Her breath came in short, hurried gasps. 

“ Oh ! Kathie, does he know, do you think ? ” 
The words came before she knew what she 
was saying, but Kathie was all unconscious of 
their meaning. 

“ Know that Ronnie’s very bad ? Yes, of 
course he does. But don’t cry like that, Fea ; 
he says while there is life there’s hope. Here’s 
Wulf coming. Wulf” — in a faint whisper — 
how is he?” 

“ Just the same ” — in a subdued voice. 
“ But, Kathie, the dad wouldn’t like to see you 
here with nothing on your feet. If you get 
laid up, he will have his hands full, and we 


RONNIE’S ILLNESS. 8i 

others must save him all the anxiety we can. 
Go back to bed, there's a good girl, and I will 
faithfully report to you how our laddie pro- 
gresses— whether it be for good— or— ill.” His 
voice faltered, and Kathie rushed back to her 
room, choking with sobs. 

“Fea”— he laid his hand on his sister's 
shoulder — “ I give you the same advice that I 
have given to Kathie.” 

“ Oh ! Wulf, he can't give me his confidence 
any more.” 

“Who?” 

“F-father. He knows it is my doing that 
Ronnie is ill — and he won’t tell me an3dhing — 
and won’t come and ask me to — to help 
Virginie— but asks Gyneth— instead.” 

“ Shall I tell you why he has done so ? ” 

The words sent a cold shudder through Fea. 
It was coming at last ! Even Wulf knew it ! 
She nerved herself to bear it. Ah ! if Fea 
could only have shown as much courage in a 
better cause. 

“ Because — it is I who will have killed Ronnie 
— if he dies.” It was what she had been say- 
ing to herself all the time, and she repeated it 
again like a parrot in a dull, monotonous tone. 

“ How can you talk so irrationally ! ” said 
Wulf in a kind voice. “ Father didn’t call you 
through sheer pity for your weariness. I heard 
Virginie beg him to call Gyneth because she 
said you were worn out with fretting at having 
6 


82 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


taken Ronnie out that miserable day. But if 
you did not know that the child had a cold at 
the time, as Virginie says you didn’t, you must 
not lay too much blame at your own door. 
Come, cheer up, Fea, and, above all, don’t 
jump to wrong conclusions. We can do our- 
selves any amount of harm by imagining 
slights when none exist.” 

Fea’s hand tightened on the kind, brotherly 
one that held hers, and her heart grew strangely 
lighter. They did not know, they would none 
of them ever know, that she had taken Ronnie 
out with the full knowledge upon her of 
Virginie’s fears— fears which, in her fancied 
superiority, she had despised. 

“ Would you like to come and see him ? ” 
continued Wulf gently. “ You might relieve 
Gyneth of her watch later on.” 

And Fea said she would. 

Within Ronnie’s room she saw a sight 
which she could ever after recall at will in 
later years. 

Her father sat beside the bed with Ronnie’s 
hand in his, and standing near was Gyneth, 
shading the light with a fan, and a startled 
look upon her face. 

Wulf raised a warning finger to Fea, and 
advanced softly to the bed, leaving her stand- 
ing at the door, irresolute, and half longing to 
turn back to her own room. 

She stood and watched and, watching, saw 


RONNIE’S ILLNESS. 83 

her father’s lips move, and Wulf bend to 
catch the words. Then, with a gentle move- 
ment, her brother raised Ronnie’s head on his 
arm and put a glass to his lips, then laid him as 
gently down again. And Dr. Oakley still held 
the sick child’s wrist within his hand, and 
never moved. He seemed like a lay figure. 

Was it all a dream ? thought Fea. It 
wasn’t real — it couldn’t be real — that it was 
Ronnie’s hand that was being held, and that 
they were all hanging in anxious suspense 
over the beating of that little pulse ! A figure 
cut in marble could not have been more 
motionless than Fea. 

And then, suddenly, the doctor gently laid 
Ronnie’s hand down, and Fea thought her heart 
must stop beating. Had she not read some- 
where that when a doctor dropped the hand it 
signified that all hope was gone — that life had 
fled? 

“ Oh, God ! ” It was but a voiceless prayer, 
but it reached the throne of Heaven. 

The doctor’s fingers stole softly to the sick 
child’s brow, and stayed there lingeringly. 
Then he spoke, and his words reached Fea 
as in a dream. 

“ The crisis is past. His pulse is beating 
regularly ; his skin is soft and moist.” 

And then Fea slipped to the ground and 
lay there in a heap, and never knew that 
Wulf’s arms bore her to her room. 


CHAPTER IX. 


VIRGINIE IS DISTRESSED. 


“Take away the self -conceited, and there will be elbow-room 
in the world.” 


Whichcote. 


“To know 

That which before us lies in daily life, 

Is the prime wisdom.” 

Paradise Lost. 


No, Ronald didn’t die ; and he recovered so 
rapidly that Roy used to say he was a fraud. 
But the schoolboy always bent and kissed him 
after his words ; for what would they all have 
done if their torment Ronnie hadn’t proved 
himself “ a fraud ” at that time ? 

And the one who was most indignant at not 
having been allowed to come and nurse him 
was Cousin Felicia, who took out her indigna- 
tion in a way which satisfied herself and all 
the Oakleys put together. For she demanded 
that Ronnie should finish his convalescence at 
her house ; and she bore him away in such 
triumph in her little pony carriage that it was 
as good as a play. 

And Ronnie sat beaming, white and delicate- 
looking still, but oh ! so happy at driving 
away in state with Cousin Felicia. 

84 


VIRGINIE IS DISTRESSED. 85 

“ And I will allow you— though you don’t 
deserve such treatment — to come and pay him 
a visit every day,” she said to Dr. Oakley, as 
James was scrambling to his seat behind her. 

And the doctor smilingly thanked her for 
her goodness. 

“ Fea,” he said, as he turned back to the 
house after watching the pony carriage disap- 
pear round the bend of the road, and waving 
a final farewell to Ronnie — “ I want to speak 
to you in the library.” 

And Fea, whose conscience was never quite 
easy as to the secret she still bore within her, 
followed him in some mental trepidation. 

But her father’s words bore no reference to 
the early stages of Ronnie’s recent illness. 

“ Your Uncle Stanley writes to ask if I can 
join him for a few days in London ; but that I 
cannot possibly do just at present. I must see 
Ronnie every day for myself for the short time 
he is with Cousin Felicia.” 

“ But surely Wulf could do that,” expostu- 
lated Fea ; “ and the change would do you 
good, father. You ought to think of it.” 

Her tone was pleading. It wasn’t exactly 
pleasant to feel that perhaps it was through 
her own misdoing the doctor was depriving 
himself of a pleasure which she knew full well 
he would greatly enjoy. 

Impossible, my dear. Ronnie would never 
be off my mind. This illness of his has made 


86 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


him delicate. I must watch him carefully for 
some time to come.” 

“ Then why did you let him go from home ? ” 
asked Fea, somewhat resentfully. The un- 
pleasant feeling was growing. 

Dr. Oakley half smiled. “ His mother could 
not have watched over him more tenderly than 
Cousin Felicia will do. I feel he is in very 
safe hands. But still, I must be on the spot 
should symptoms arise which might alarm 
Cousin Felicia.” 

Fea turned away, and the doctor did not 
see the look of pain with which she heard 
him. 

He continued — As I cannot go, and as your 
uncle is very insistent about it, I want Wulf 
to profit by the invitation. The lad is working 
too hard, and I do not like that pale, listless 
look he has in the morning.” 

“ Can he spare the time ?” asked Fea in a 
low voice, her face still turned away. 

“Yes, I shall see to that. And I want you, 
dear, to look after the packing of the things 
he will require. I don’t want him to be 
worried about it, or he will refuse to go. Just 
fill a portmanteau with the few things you 
know will be necessary to him. In all proba- 
bility, it will not be for more than a week, for 
your uncle has to run up to town to visit the 
Academy, and is staying at the Inns of Court 
Hotel.” 


VIRGINIE IS DISTRESSED. 87 

“ Will Uncle Stanley come to us afterwards, 
do you think ? ” 

Perhaps he may. It all depends upon 
what work he is engaged on at the time. How- 
ever, I intend to get Wulf to persuade him to 
come, unless he has made other preparations 
for the spring.” 

The doctor took his departure, and Feawent 
upstairs to see to the packing of the portman- 
teau. It was the sort of thing she liked doing, 
more especially as it was for her favorite 
brother. And whilst she packed shirts, and 
socks, and ties, she kept on reiterating to her- 
self — 

“ Wulf needs the change more than father 
does. It is right that Wulf should go. 
Father can go some other time.” 

But it would not do. The words did not 
thoroughly satisfy her. There was a nasty 
little feeling of unhappiness springing up in 
her heart, the heart which had always held 
so much confidence in her own powers, and 
Fea felt restive under it. 

In the midst of her packing, Virginie came 
in, looking distressed — 

“ Miss Fea, dear ” 

“ Oh ! Virginie, I do so hate to be called 
Fea. I told the children only yesterday that 
as I am now in mother’s place the old babyish 
name of ‘ Fea ' should be done away with. I 
was christened Feadora, so why should I not be 


88 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


called by that name ? Fea sounds so silly, 
whereas Feadora is really a pretty name. 
Please try to remember what I have said, and 
tell the other servants to do so, too.'' 

“ I’ll do my best to remember. Miss Fea — 
Miss Feadora, I mean,” stammered Virginie. 

“That’s right. It will please me very much. 
Now, what is it you wanted to say ? ” graciously. 

Virginie hesitated, and the distressed look 
came back to her face. 

“ Do make haste, for I am going down to 
the library now to write these labels.” 

So Virginie took her courage in both hands, 
as the French say, and began — 

“ Jane and Sarah have just come to tell me 
they are going to give you notice.” 

“ Notice ! What for ? ” 

Virginie hesitated. And then, as Fea re- 
peated angrily — “ What for ?” she blurted out — 
“ Oh ! Miss Fea, dear — Miss Feadora, I mean 
— did you really tell them that they must not 
expect to have their glass of ale at dinner-time 
as usual, but that, instead, they should have 
cold, fresh water from the pump ?” 

An angry flush came into Fea's cheeks, and 
her head reared itself two inches higher. 

“ And why not ? I never heard of such 
extravagance. We cannot afford such ex- 
pense. We none of us drink ale ourselves, 
excepting father, and he only has a glass oc- 
casionally, and these two servants look upon 


VIRGINIK IS DISTRESSED. 89 

it as their right, and drink it every day. It is 
high time a stop was put to it.” 

“ But,'' and Virginie looked puzzled, “ the 
master can afford it — unless — oh ! Miss Fea 

Fea frowned, but the good old servant was in 
too distressful a frame of mind to notice it. 

Oh ! Miss Fea, there’s surely nothing 
happened wrong with the master’s money ? ” 

“ No,” returned Fea, in a tone of patronizing 
condescension, “ I am very thankful to say 
there is nothing wrong. But that is no reason 
why undue extravagance should take place in 
the house.” 

“ But — but ” Virginie was clearly very 

much puzzled, and the distress was deepen- 
ing. It was always given in the mistress^ 
time, and she never made any objections. I 
don’t care about it myself, and very seldom 
take it, but it is different with those two other 
servants. And there’s John. Are you going 
to deny him, too ? ” 

“ No ; John is different. Besides, father 
would be sorry if John went, for he has had 
him for his coachman so long a time.” 

“ It’s the same thing with Jane and Sarah, 
believe me. Miss Fea.” Virginie was growing 
far too much in earnest to remember the new 
name. “ You can’t begin new rules with old 
servants. Why, we’ve had Jane ten years, and 
Sarah has been here six years and a half. 
That’s a long time for servants nowadays ; and 


90 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


say such a thing to them ? I’d have asked you 
not. That it couldn’t be done with old serv- 
ants. New servants, new rules ; old servants, 
old rules. Jane and Sarah won’t stand your 
new rules.” 

“ Then they must take the alternative,” said 
Fea, with her head very high. 

Give notice and leave ! ” exclaimed Vir- 
ginie in horror. “ Let me tell them for you, 
Miss Fea, dear,” she pleaded “ that, you have 
reconsidered the matter. I’ll put it to them, 
my dear, that they won’t think but that you 
have thought more kindly of it. Leave me to 
put it nicely for you.” 

For a minute Fea wavered. She had had 
no idea that they would take her words in 
such a manner. It would be horrid if they 
took themselves off in a month. She had 
some vague idea that “ this day month ” was 
the expression used when servants gave 
notice to leave in a huff, but experience had 
not taught her the real signification of those 
words. 

Would she let Virginie manage it for her in 
the delicate way in which the good old nurse 
was such an adept ? She thought she would. 
It would make matters so much easier, especi- 
ally just now, when Uncle Stanley might run 
down at any time, as was his custom after a 
lengthy sojou"*n on the Continent. 

But it has often been said that he who hesi- 


VIRGINIE IS DISTRESSED. 91 

tates is lost. So was it with Fea. In the 
midst of her hesitation Jane came in, and civilly, 
but firmly, gave “ Miss Fea notice to leave this 
day month. 

Fea took the notice with dignity, bowing 
her head gravely as if to take full note of what 
had been said. And following directly on 
Jane’s retreating steps came Sarah with the 
same announcement, given this time quite as 
firmly but perhaps a trifle less civilly than 
Jane’s had been. 

But this second notice Fea received coldly, 
and did not once turn her head to glance in 
Virginie’s direction, as she gathered up her 
labels, although the prospect of seeking fresh 
servants was anything but agreeable to her at 
the present moment. 

Virginie gave a sigh, a helpless, piteous sigh, 
but no one was in the room to hear it, for Sarah 
had gone down, as the cook expressed it, “ to 
chatter nineteen to the dozen about Miss Fea’s 
’aughty ways,’’ and the youthful mistress had 
betaken herself to the library with dignity in 
every gesture. 

“ It is a nuisance, certainly ; but surely, it 
is not so impossible as Virginie would give me 
to understand, to get two other women as 
capable as Jane and Sarah. Of course, I 
admit they are good servants, but Virginie’s 
insistence about that paltry glass of ale is really 
ridiculous. It is, however, just as well to let 


92 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

Virginie see who is mistress here. And the 
next two servants I get will be told plainly 
that company is not permitted. I will see to 
that ! " 


CHAPTER X. 
kathie’s secret. 

“ Our spring is in our lightsome, girlish days 
When the heart laughs within us for sheer joy.” 

Philip Bailey. 

“The ‘ sacred duty ’ of giving pleasure.” 

Anon. 

Wulf’s visit to London seemed likely to 
extend longer than even the doctor had an- 
ticipated. 

Mr. Keith had written to say that he hoped 
his nephew would be spared to him a couple 
of weeks longer ; until, in fact, his visits to the 
Academy were ended. Then Uncle Stanley 
announced that he and Wulf would both re- 
turn to Littlefield House together. And Dr. 
Oakley, only too glad for Wulf to have the 
thorough change, charged his brother-in-law 
to keep him as long as he thought fit. 

Fea was relieved at the news. True, she 
missed Wulf at every turn, and his partisan- 
ship would have been very welcome on many 
occasions when she felt herself baffled by those 
she had taken in charge. But she did not feel 
herself prepared to receive the newcomer, in 
the shape of her uncle, just at that time. She 
had not yet found two servants to replace Jane 
93 


94 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


and Sarah, and she trusted to be settled with 
them before Mr. Keith’s arrival. 

Many applicants for the places had been in- 
terviewed by her, but there was something about 
each that did not take her fancy, and to her sur- 
prise many of the applicants expressed a de- 
sire to have the privilege which Fea, with youth- 
ful sternness had refused to Jane and Sarah. 

Poor Fea ! She felt inclined to don the 
colors of the Blue Ribbon Army as a signal to 
each applicant that the article in question was 
not to be obtained in their house. 

She found herself obliged to take up the 
matter in a far more serious light than she had 
ever had any intention of doing, if only to 
prove to Virginie that she was in the right. 
She was getting to hate the very sound of the 
word “ beer,” which had perforce to take a 
prominent part in the examination of each 
domestic. But to give in, and own that she 
had made a mistake, was not Fea’s way of 
dealing with the case. 

In her own heart she was beginning to wish 
heartily that she had not interfered with Jane 
and Sarah. By so doing, she had only brought 
trouble and worry to bear upon herself. For 
on no account would she carry her tale to 
Cousin Felicia, and crave her assistance ; and 
not a whisper of the matter reached her 
father’s ears. Virginie was no tell-tale. If 
Miss Fea wished to tell the master she would. 


KATHIE’S SECRET. 


95 


It was not for her to carry tales. And, per- 
haps, deep down in the corner of the old 
nurse’s faithful heart, there lurked a hope that 
this trouble her young mistress had brought 
upon herself might do good, and teach her the 
experience which nothing else could give. 

And, meanwhile, the younger children were 
taking their own way much in the same style 
that Jane and Sarah were doing. Fea was too 
much occupied with her own troubles to pay 
much heed to them, and when she did her 
patronizing, authoritative manner did more 
harm than good. So they followed their own 
bent, without let or hindrance, never seeking 
aid or counsel from the eldest sister. 

A very different interpretation, indeed, was 
Fea putting upon the words, “ in mother’s 
place.” “ Mother’s place ” to Dr. Oakley sug- 
gested all things soft, and gentle, and sweet- 
tempered ; something which held at the same 
time sway over the hearts and minds of the 
whole household. But to Fea, it meant au- 
thority, patronage, quick temper — none of 
which bore the same fruit that her mother’s 
methods had done. And Fea, if she thought 
at all of the methods being different, thought 
that her way was the better of the two. And 
though she had plenty of love in her heart she 
never showed it, but went through her allotted 
tasks with a rigid discipline— too rigid and too 
severe for so young a girl. 


96 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


And so the weeks went gliding on, bringing 
none of the happiness or peace which Dr. 
Oakley had fondly hoped might still be found 
in his home, although the light had gone from 
it forever. 

“ Nannie, can you keep a secret ? " exclaimed 
Kathie one day. 

‘‘ A secret ? Oh ! can’t I ! What is it, 
Kathie ? Oh ! do tell me.” 

“ I don’t know whether I ought to. I’d tell 
Gyneth, only she’s so wrapped up in her books 
that she wouldn’t pay any attention. And Roy 
— well, Roy is not Roy now,” ended off Kathie, 
half to herself, and turning moodily towards 
the window. 

“ Does Fea know ?” 

“ Fea ? ” Kathie turned a scornful face with 
her nose very much tilted. “ No, thank you ! 
I want no spoil sports. You don’t catch me 
go to Fea— I beg her pardon, Feadora— with 
any of my secrets ! ” 

Nannie went on sewing diligently at the 
handkerchief Virginie had given her to hem, 
but the stitches were growing bigger and 
bigger, and puckers were coming fast. 

She and Kathie had been thrown together 
rather much of late, for Roy— Kathie’s constant 
companion heretofore — had “ chummed up 
tremendously,” as Kathie put it, with a new 
boy at the school — a lad about his own age. 
Kathie, and the rabbits, and their feeding, had 


KATHIE’S SECRET. 


97 


been much neglected for the companionship 
of Jack Boyd, and poor Kathie had felt rather 
out in the cold. 

She would willingly have joined the two 
boys in their expeditions had Roy asked her. 
But he hadn’t, and Kathie had grown moody 
in consequence, and inclined to form plans of 
her own, wherein Roy had no part. 

Shrewd little Nannie had found a want in 
Kathie’s usual sunny smile, and missed the old 
slap-dash style which appealed more to her 
than did Kathie’s present somber manner. She 
felt sorry for Roy’s neglect, but her pride was 
great at being singled out for Kathie’s con- 
fidence. 

Throwing down the half-hemmed and very 
soiled-looking handkerchief, she crept up to 
Kathie, and, slipping a coaxing hand within 
her arm, begged to go “ halves in the secret.” 

“ You’ll not breathe a word to any one if I 
tell you ? ” 

Not a word.” 

‘‘ Not even to Cousin Felicia, or to Virginie ?” 

“ No.” 

“Not a syllable to Fea — I mean,” scorn- 
fully — “ Feadora ? ” 

“ No, no ! Do go on, Kathie.” 

“ Well, you know that old house past Tyler’s 
orchard ? The haunted house, called The 
Maze ? ” 

Nannie nodded, looking mysterious. “ Tyler 
7 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


98 

says he's seen the ghost walking about in the 
garden, and looking out of the windows.” 

“ Bosh ! Let him tell that to his grand- 
mother ! Fve seen no ghost, and Fve been 
past the place often enough lately to get 
thistles for Deborah.” 

“ And for Roy’s rabbits, too, I know,” put in 
Nan, nodding abruptly. “His rabbits would 
starve if it wasn’t for you.” 

Kathie frowned. “ No, they wouldn’t. 
They have bran and lots of cabbage tops ; but 
I like them to share with Deborah when I give 
her thistles. You don’t know anything at all 
about it, Nannie, and I won’t tell you the 
secret now.” 

But Nannie was a curious little soul, and 
loved dearly to hear a secret ; so she hung 
on to Kathie’s arm with imploring words and 
still more imploring eyes, till Kathie was con- 
quered. 

“Well, the other day I was digging away 
in the hedge which divides the end of Tyler’s 
orchard from the garden of The Maze, when I 
saw a tall, thin-looking woman on the other 
side of the hedge, beckoning to me ” 

“ It was the ghost ! ” exclaimed Nan, with a 
cold shiver. “ They always begin by beckon- 
mg. 

“ Look here ! ” said Kathie irritably, “ if 
you interrupt I shan’t tell you.” 

“ I won’t — I won’t. Do go on, Kathie, 


KATHIE’S SECRET. 


99 


deaVy'* cried Nan. “ But Fm sure it must 
have been the ghost. Was she all in white ?” 

“No, in black, you little muff. Do you 
want to hear the secret, or not ? “ 

“ Yes. I won’t say another word.” 

“ Well ; I climbed on to the bank and 
looked over. It's a pretty steep bank, you 
know, and I dirtied myself awfully in getting 
up. But when I looked over, I found she was 
as near to me as you are,” said Kathie, moving 
to the other side of the room : “ just about 
this distance, with a hedge between. I could 
see her well through the hedge. She had a 
white, thin face, with very black hair. She 
asked me if I would come into her garden and 
speak to her. I said I couldn’t go just then, 
as it was getting dark, and father wouldn't like 
me to be out after dark. She asked who my 
father was, and I told her. She nodded her 
head, and seemed pleased, and said she knew 
him. Then she asked if I would come and 
see her another day. I said I’d ask father, but 
she said she would rather I didn’t ^sked him, 
but just come in as a favor to see a sick woman 
who had no pleasure in life but in walking 
about her garden.” 

“ I wonder why she didn’t want father to 
be asked?’' questioned Nan. 

“ I don’t know. Perhaps she thought that, 
as a doctor, he wouldn’t like me to go and visit 
a sick person. But she didn't seem sick,” said 

tore. 


lOO 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Kathie musingly ; “ she was only very white, 
and her eyes were bright and staring.” 

“Pretty?” asked Nan. 

“ No, not pretty ; rather wild-looking.” 

Nannie shrank back. “ I don’t think she 
can be nice, Kathie. Don’t go and see her.” 

“ Well, I’d rather like to. I’ve a fancy for 
going into the garden to see if I could find my 
way out. It’s called The Maze, you know, for 
the reason that no one can get out of it when 
once in.” 

Nannie shivered. “ Supposing you couldn’t ? 
Supposing she locked you up, and never let 
you out of the garden again ? ” 

Kathie grinned. “ Two could play at that 
game ; ” and “ Gawky Kathie ” flung out her 
arm and bent it backwards and forwards. 

“ Plenty of muscle there,” she said, with 
another laugh. “ I was going to ask if you 
wouldn’t come with me, Nan,” mischievously; 
“ but I suppose you’d rather be excused ? ” 

Nannie looked a little pale. Her curiosity 
and love for hearing secrets didn’t carry her 
so far as to wish to visit curious people. 

“ Let us tell Virginie, and ask her what she 
thinks,” she suggested. 

But Kathie was firm in her decision not to 
tell a soul. She loved Virginie, but knew of 
old how useless it was to get her to consent to 
anything in which the doctor’s sanction had 
not been gained. 


KATHIE’S SECRET. 


lOI 


Besides — as she went on to explain to Nan — 
the sick lady had made her promise not to tell 
anybody of her having spoken to her over the 
hedge. 

“ So how,” exclaimed Kathie, “ could 1, in 
the face of my promise, break my word ? ” 

It was all very well to talk about not break- 
ing promises, but such a promise it would 
have been well had Kathie broken. And down 
in the hearts of both girls there lurked the 
feeling that the doctor would be seriously 
angry did he know of any words having passed 
between the stranger lady and one of his 
daughters. But Nannie, as has been said 
before, loved secrets ; and Kathie’s mood, in 
those days, was becoming a dangerous one to 
herself. And there was no loving mother’s 
hand to lead the wayward spirit back into the 
right path, from which it was often straying 
now. 

“When was it she spoke to you?” asked 
Nannie. 

“ Last week. I haven’t been to the orchard 
since, for I wanted to think it over. But I 
must go soon — perhaps this coming Saturday 
afternoon— for Deborah can’t go without her 
thistles for long.” 

“ And will you go in and speak to her then ?” 
questioned Nannie, with breathless interest. 

“ I don’t know; I haven’t quite thought it 
out. It will depend on circumstances.” 


102 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


And then she gave Nannie a warning 
glance ; for Fea came into the schoolroom 
at that moment, with her hands laden with 
daffodils. 

“ Do one of you get me some of those vases 
out of that cupboard,'' she said hurriedly. 
“ Nan, you can do it." 

Nannie jumped up at once. “ Oh ! Fea," 
she said eagerly — “ I mean, Feadora — do give 
me some of those to give to Cousin Felicia. 
She is so fond of them." 

“ Indeed, no ; I intend to distribute these 
amongst the patients in Wulf's hospital. Don’t 
be silly, Nannie ; Cousin Felicia can buy any 
amount of flowers when she hasn't got them 
in her own garden. The patients in the hospital 
need them far more than she does." 

“ Half a dozen out of that quantity wouldn't 
rob you, or them," put in Kathie gruffly, “and 
it would give Nannie pleasure to give them to 
Cousin Felicia, who gives us so much." 

But Fea was not of the same opinion. And 
Kathie, seeing it, went on mockingly — 

“ Doesn’t matter, the patients in the hospital 
will think Miss Feadora Oakley an angel of 
light as she comes into the ward with her pretty 
hands filled with the sweetest of Spring flowers, 
and the sweetest of smiles on her pretty face, 
and wearing the sweetest of sweet dresses to 
relieve the gloom of the hospital. Boh 1 " 
And, with a scornful curl of her lip, Kathie 


KATHIE’S SECRET. 


103 

went off, banging th schoolroom door after 
her. 

Fea’s lips were compressed, and her head 
was very high. She said not a word in return 
for Kathie’s tirade, but steadily continued her 
task ; and although the little sister helped her 
by fetching water and pouring it into the vases, 
and giving all the assistance in her power, Fea 
never once thought of rewarding her with even 
one of the coveted flowers. 


CHAPTER XI. 


JACK BOYD. 

“ Beware of entrance to a quarrel.” 

Hamlet. 

Saturday afternoon had come, and Nannie 
kept watching Kathie out of the corners of her 
eyes. Would Kathie go to The Maze that 
afternoon ? And would she, if asked, accom- 
pany her ? 

Nannie didn’t know even now how to answer 
that question. It had been troubling her all 
the week through, and now the very day had 
come, and even yet her mind was not made 
up. Her curiosity prompted her to go and 
see the sick lady, and then timidity urged her 
not to go. Kathie had said the lady looked 
wild, and that it was difficult to find one’s way 
out of the garden ; and Nannie, never given to 
overmuch courage, shivered at the thought. 

Kathie went out of the schoolroom, to return 
very shortly, equipped in hat and jacket, with 
a basket and knife slung over her arm. 

Roy looked up from the stick he was whit- 
tling. “ Going off to gather thistles ?” he said. 

104 


JACK BOYD. 


105 


“ Sorry I can’t go, too ; but Boyd wants me to 
meet him down by the river.” 

Kathie made no answer. She was too proud 
to press him. A word from Roy, asking her to 
join himself and his friend would have met 
vnth a grateful acceptance, and the thought of 
thistles and the sick lady at The Maze would 
have been cast to the winds, and much misery 
and anxiety spared. But no such word was 
spoken, and Kathie’s affectionate heart was 
growing sorer and sorer at Roy’s desertion. 

Never had she and Roy been so little to- 
gether as now ; never before had he taken so 
little interest in her pursuits as he did now ; 
and a stinging germ of dislike was springing 
up in Kathie’s heart for the all-unconscious 
Boyd. 

Before leaving the room, Kathie shot a 
questioning look at Nannie. “ Coming with 
me. Nan ? ” she asked. But there was mis- 
chief in her eyes and in her tone, and Nannie 
shook her head wdth a frightened gesture. 

“Are you going to Tyler’s orchard?” she 
asked, somewhat quaveringly. 

“ Yes, of course. The best thistles are to be 
found there, especially on the bank that bounds 
The Maze from the orchard ; ” and her eyes 
danced more mischievously than before. 

Nannie shivered. “ Would you like me to 
go with you ? ” she questioned, in the tone of a 
martyr being driven to the stake. 


io6 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

“ Not unless you like ; and Kathie laughed 
out, unable to restrain her mirth at Nannie’s 
obvious fear. 

“ I wish you’d both leave the room,” put 
in Fea. “ Twice over I’ve counted the stitches 
in this canvas, and now I’ve lost the number 
again, through your chattering. For goodness’ 
sake go, Nannie, or we’ll get no peace from 
Kathie.” 

“ If you go, Nan,” said Roy, looking up from 
his work, “ I wish you’d get some thistles for 
me. Nero is growing thin for want of some.” 

“ Then why don’t you get them yourself ?’* 
replied Nannie indignantly. “ You let Kathie 
slave away for your rabbits, and pretend you 
don’t know it. You know you do,” as a flush 
crept into Roy’s sunburnt cheeks. “ Nero 
oughtn’t to be a bit thinner than any of the 
others, for Kathie gives him as many thistles 
as the rest, and poor Deborah has to go on 
short commons for the whole of them. I call 
it awfully mean of you.” 

“ Look here, young’un ; if you give me any 
more of your cheek. I’ll settle you in a trice,” 
returned Roy. “ If Kathie cares to get thistles 
for my rabbits— and I’m sure I’m much obliged 
to her for doing so ” — here he had the grace to 
cast a half-ashamed, wholly grateful look in 
Kathie’s direction — “ it’s no business of yours. 
Just take yourself off out of the room, will you, 
or 111 ” and Roy put on a threatening air. 


JACK BOYD. 


107 

Oh I for mercy’s sake, get away, all of 
you,” exclaimed Fea. “ Here I’ve just got to 
the end of this line and have to begin all over 
again. I wonder who could keep a collected 
head with so much jabbering.” 

“ Gyneth, apparently,” said Roy, pointing to 
the window seat, upon which his second sister 
lay curled up reading. 

“ It would be better if she mended her dress,” 
remarked Fea, casting a scathing glance at the 
rather shiftless appearance Gyneth presented, 
with a huge ragged rent in her skirt and a 
bodice minus several buttons. 

“ Eh, eh ? what did you say ? ” exclaimed 
Gyneth, waking up to sudden consciousness 
around her, and blinking upwards from her 
book. 

“ Nothing— nothing,” laughed Roy. “We 
are only wishing we could all ignore our wor- 
ries as easily as you do. What is it, Gyneth ? 
English, Latin, or Greek ? ” mischievously. 

“ It’s Carlyle on the French Revolution,” re- 
turned Gyneth, innocently. “ Oh ! Roy, it is 
just splendid. You must read it afterwards.” 

“ Hm— I’ll see. Have you counted your 
line again, Fea — beg pardon— Feadora ?” 

Fea’s head was rising stiffly, and Kathie 
broke into a giggle. It was the last straw. 
Fea got into a passion, and ordered Kathie and 
Nan to leave the room at once. In the midst 
of the din, Roy was heard murmuring— 


io8 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

“ Let dogs delight to bark and bite, 

For ’tis their nature to.” 

And Kathie. bubbling over with laughter — 
for her heart had grown strangely light since 
Roy had cast that look of grateful thanks upon 
her— dragged the unresisting Nannie from the 
room. 

“ Come along ; don’t be a muff. I hate 
thistling alone. We’ll both go, and I’ll protect 
you from the wild-looking lady in black.” 

“ But, Kathie, promise me not to go in,” 
urged Nannie, as, having donned her outdoor 
clothes, she kept pace with Kathie down the 
street. 

But before Kathie could answer, a fresh- 
faced, shy-looking schoolboy had taken off his 
cap, and was pausing half irresolutely beside 
them. 

“ Good afternoon,” he stammered. “ I was 
— going to your house for your brother.” 

“You’ll find him in the schoolroom,” re- 
turned Kathie gruffly ; for this was the objec- 
tionable Jack Boyd. 

“ We are going thistling for the rabbits,” 
said Nannie, to makeup for Kathie’s gruffness. 

“ How awfully jolly ! I wish we could go 
with you ; but there’s another fellow expecting 
us down by the river.” 

“ Roy said he was going down there with 
you ” began Nannie, when Kathie inter- 

rupted, speaking still more gruffly than before— 


JACK BOYD. 


109 

** There’s not much fun thistling. It’s all 
work. You wouldn’t like that.” 

“ Why not ? ” asked the lad. “ We’ll come 
one Saturday, if you’ll let us.” 

But Kathie made no answer beyond a curt 
nod of farewell, and stalked off, leaving Nannie 
to murmur softly — 

“ Kathie is in a hurry, for we are late. We 
should like it very much if you and Roy would 
come next time.” And here Nannie thought 
she would do a little stroke of business on her 
own account. “ There are such a lot of rabbits 
— Roy’s got seven, and Kathie one — and they 
eat a lot of thistles, and it takes such a long 
time gathering them.” 

“ I should just think so,” returned Boyd. 
“ We’ll come next Saturday, and take our turn 
at gathering them. It’s a shame that all the 
work should fall on you. Don’t fear. We’ll 
work like navvies next week.” 

And as Nannie ran off, satisfied with her 
success. Jack Boyd looked after her with a 
wistful expression on his schoolboy’s face. He 
often felt so alone in the world — so sisterless 
and brotherless — since the one little sister and 
brother, whom he had cared for so much, had 
died of typhoid fever two years ago. 

She looks a nice little thing,” he exclaimed 
half aloud, as he still watched the flying feet 
with a feeling akin to pain in his heart ; for 
had not the little sister’s feet skimmed the 


no 


FEODORA’S FAILURE. 


ground just as lightly in those days when the 
world did not feel quite so forlorn as it did at 
present ? “ And it’s not fair that Oakley’s 

rabbits should be looked after by his sisters. 
Roy ought to do his share of the work. I’ll 
keep him up to the mark, and next Saturday 
will see us in that orchard, or my name’s not 
Boyd.” 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE LADY IN BLACK. 

“ I could a tale unfold.” 

Hamlet. 

“ He looks very nice,” panted Nannie, as she 
came up to Kathie, stalking moodily along. 
“ No wonder Roy likes him.” 

But Kathie’s jealous feelings had been roused 
at the sight of the pleasant-faced schoolboy. 

“ Hm ! I didn’t see anything very nice — a 
gawky, red-faced boy, who could scarcely 
speak for stammering. We don’t want him 
mooning round on a Saturday, spoiling all our 
pleasures — that’s certain.” 

Nannie saw she was put out, and refrained 
from mentioning the expedition she herself 
had angled for, wisely thinking it best to wait 
till the day arrived. 

It was a long walk to the orchard, and many 
times Nannie lagged behind. Then, just as 
they came in sight of the field, her fear of the 
sick lady in the next garden took sudden pos- 
session of her. 

“ You won’t go in, Kathie, no matter how 
she presses, will you ? ” she begged, running 
along by Kathie’s side, and gazing anxiously 
into her face. 


II2 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Oh ! don’t be silly. It’s not very likely 
we shall see her at all. I won’t look for her, 
at any rate ; for that boy has delayed us too 
long, and we won’t get what thistles we want 
— stupid fellow.” And Kathie climbed over 
the stile leading into the orchard, Nannie 
climbed after her in silence. 

“ Don’t talk,” she whispered ; “ then she 
won’t hear us.” 

But Kathie gave a laugh. “ You’re a goose,” 
she said ; “ she won’t eat you.” 

However, there was too much work to be 
done to allow of any talking, and the sisters 
gathered with a will, Nannie stifling many an 
inclination to throw down her thistling knife 
and dive in amongst the primroses, of which 
many were yet to be seen peeping out from 
amongst the thick grass. 

The two baskets were nearly filled, when a 
low voice just on the other side of the hedge 
where Nannie was made her jump. 

“ Are you there ?” the voice said. “ I can’t 
see you.” 

Scarcely daring to breathe, Nannie crept 
to where Kathie was on her knees rooting away 
with vigor. 

“ Oh ! Kathie, she’s calling you ! ” 

“Who?” 

“ The sick lady. But don’t go, Kathie. 
She didn’t see me.” 

“ Which side is she on ? There ? ” and 


THE LADY IN BLACK. 


Kathie stalked down to the hedge, Nannie 
following with a beating heart. 

“ Are you there?’' the soft voice was still 
saying. “ If you are, let me see you.” 

“ Here I am,” said Kathie, putting her 
head through an opening. “ How are you 
to-day ? ” 

“ Not so well. And oh ! so very sad,” said 
the voice. 

“ Sad ? What makes you so ?” questioned 
Kathie. 

“ Sh-sh-sh ! You won’t tell ? She makes 
me sad.” 

“ Who ? ” 

“ She — my housekeeper,” said the voice. 

Nannie’s curiosity could not be controlled. 
She climbed up behind Kathie, and put her 
head through another opening. 

“ Oh ! you’ve brought some one with you ! ” 
exclaimed the sick lady. 

“ Only my sister. She’s come to help me to 
pick thistles for our rabbits.” 

Nannie, craning her neck, saw a tall, pale- 
faced woman, dressed all in black, with a lady- 
like appearance. Her face looked sad, and her 
voice was very plaintive. She did not look at 
all formidable, and Nannie’s fears fled away as 
she struggled to obtain a firmer footing. 

“ Why does your housekeeper make you 
sad ? ” she asked, with a mixture of curiosity 
and boldness. 

8 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


114 

“ Hush ! Nannie, don’t be rude," rebuked 
Kathie. 

“ She will not let me see any one ; she will 
not let me speak to any one,” answered the sick 
lady. “And oh ! dear, I am so tired of just 
walking about in this garden.” 

“ I suppose you don’t know your way out, 
do you ? ” asked Kathie. “ It is called The 
Maze.” 

A curious look crossed the sick lady’s face — 
a look of fear and of cunning. But Kathie 
didn’t see it. She had slipped down from her 
position, and by the time she had righted her- 
self the look had vanished, and the same sad 
expression filled the sick lady’s eyes. 

“ I am so anxious to speak to some one — to 
tell some one of a great secret that I have.” 

Nannie pricked up her ears at the word 
“ secret.” It sounded mysterious, and she 
loved mysteries. 

“ Did you want to tell Kathie your secret ? ” 
she asked. 

“ I should like to tell you both,” said the 
sick lady. “ You both look so kind, and oh ! 
dear,” sinking her voice to a whisper, “ she is 
so unkind — so cruel to me." 

Nannie’s soft heart was growing softer every 
minute. “What a shame,” she said indig- 
nantly. “ Why don’t you send her away ? ” 

Again that cunning look came into the sick 
woman’s face, and this time Kathie saw it and 


THE LADY IN BLACK. 


was startled. It went, however, as quickly as 
it came. 

‘‘ Ah ! why don’t I send her away, you ask. 
That is part of my secret. Will you not come 
into the garden and hear it ? ” 

“Tell it to us here,” said Kathie bluntly. 

The thought of her father’s displeasure alone 
prevented her from going into the garden. 
And a little feeling was creeping into her heart 
that he would not care very much to see 
Nannie and herself conversing with this strange 
lady, sick and sad though she might be. 

“ I cannot,” was the answer. “ Walls have 
ears, so also have hedges. No; if I cannot 
tell it to you I must keep it pent up within my 
own sad breast.” 

“ Kathie, let us go in,” said Nannie, all fear 
for the time being gone. She saw before her 
a gentle, pale-faced lady, who was craving their 
hearing a sad tale she had to unfold. 

But Kathie did not stir. “ Why don’t you 
tell it to my father ?” she said slowly. 

“Your father ?” 

“ Yes, Dr. Oakley.” 

“ Ah ! he ministers not to a mind diseased 
such as mine is, but to the poor, worn, frail 
body. Doctors do not care for secrets, or to 
have their ears filled with the sad tales of 
others ” 

“ My father does ; he is kindness itself,” in- 
terrupted Kathie. 


ii6 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

But the lady had turned away with a quick, 
sorrowful gesture ; and, as she did so, the two 
girls saw her start violently, then proceed 
softl}^ down the narrow path which bordered 
the grassy bank. A woman came to meet her 
— a tall, masculine woman with hard features. 

“ There you are, at your tricks again ! ” she 
exclaimed harshly. “ How often have I told 
you that I will not have you walking by your- 
self on this side of the garden ! The other 
side is the side for you. I shall have to report 
you to the doctor again ; and, if I do, he will 
prevent you from walking in the garden at 
all.” 

Seizing the sick lady by the arm as she 
spoke, she hustled her off out of sight of the 
two girls still perched upon the hedge. And 
soon the sound of a heavy door being banged 
announced to them that their sad friend had 
been shut within its portals. 

“ Kathie ! ” — Nannie’s voice was horror- 
stricken — “ what do you think of that ?” 

“ I don’t know what to think, Nan. She 
seems a poor, miserable lady, doesn’t she ? ” 

“ She does — she does ! ” exclaimed Nannie 
vehemently. “ Oh I Kathie, I wish we had 
gone down into the garden and heard her 
secret before that horrid housekeeper had 
come.” 

“ I don't think father would have liked it,” 
said Kathie slowly. 


THE LADY IN BLACK. 


117 

“ I think father must be unkind to her, too,’* 
returned Nannie. “You heard what that 
woman said about telling the doctor, and that 
he wouldn’t let her walk in the garden at all.” 

Kathie nodded. “ Perhaps it was not father 
she meant.” 

But Nannie’s sympathies had become en- 
listed on the sick lady’s behalf. Her father 
was cruel to her, the housekeeper still more 
cruel ; so that between them and the lady’s 
own ill-health, they were going the very way 
to kill her. 

“ We must see her again and hear her secret, 
Kathie,” she said feverishly. “ Poor, poor 
thing ! ” 

And though Kathie echoed the last words 
with all her heart, she gave no affirmative 
reply to Nannie’s first exclamation. 

Almost in silence on her part did they make 
their way home, but Nannie chatted endlessly. 

Just as they reached the doctor’s house, 
Kathie laid an impressive hand upon Nannie’s 
arm. 

“ Is what we have heard and seen to be be- 
tween ourselves. Nan, or are you going to blurt 
it out to all the rest ? ” 

Nannie was indignant. “It is our secret, 
Kathie, and you will see how I can keep it. 
But next Saturday, oh ! next Saturday, Kathie, 
we must go into the garden just to hear what 
makes her so sad. What a long,* long way off 


ii8 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

Saturday is— a whole week before we see that 
poor lady again ! I wish it had come now, 
don’t you, Kathie ? Do you think it will ever 
come ?” 

“ Oh ! dear, yes,” laughed Kathie, if only 
we are patient and don’t excite ourselves too 
much. I expect you are tired. Give me your 
basket, and Fll go and spread the thistles on 
the hutches to dry.” 

And as Nannie gave it up willingly enough, 
and entered the house by the front door, 
Kathie slipped around by the side entrance, 
and went into the stable where the rabbit 
hutches were kept. 

Here, to her annoyance, she found Roy and 
his friend Boyd, both bending over the hutch 
which contained Nero. 

“ Hulloa ! Kath,” he said, “ what a jolly lot 
of thistles ! We’re taking a squint at Nero. 
Boyd thinks he never saw such a fine rabbit.” 

“ He looks quite the emperor amongst them,” 
said Boyd, half shyly, for Kathie’s face did not 
invite conversation. 

“ Hm ! ” returned Kathie. “ Here, Roy, you 
can chuck these thistles about to dry. I am 
tired, and have to look after my canaries.” 

And, without another word, or a glance at 
Boyd, she marched out of the stable whistling. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


KATHIE. 

“The road to home happiness lies over little stepping- 
stones.” 

Anon, 

“Sweet! sweet! sweet j’’ Kathie had filled 
her canaries' bottles with seed, and was now 
inserting a lump of sugar between the bars. 
“ Sweet ! sweet ! sweet ! Listen, Gyneth, to 
their singing. Doesn’t Cresty beat the others 
hollow ? It’s his voice that is the loudest.” 

And, in truth, the crested cock-bird was 
filling the room with melody, almost bursting 
his full throat in his endeavors to overtop the 
voices of his fellows. 

“ Doesn't he make rather too much noise ? ” 
asked Gyneth, still dreamy-eyed, as she raised 
her head from her book. “ Throw that anti- 
maccassar over the cage.” 

“ Throw it over the cage ! No, indeed, he 
must exercise his lungs — it is so good for him. 
Put your fingers upon your ears, Gyneth, and 
bury your nose in your book.” 

And, to Kathie's infinite amusement, Gyneth 
did literally what she was told. 

“ Sweet ! sweet ! sweet ! ” encouraged Kathie. 


120 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


And, so emboldened, Cresty sang his hardest. 
And, in the midst of the singing and Kathie’s 
amusement, Roy’s voice was heard in the pas- 
sage outside above the din — 

“ You won’t mind schoolroom tea, Boyd ? 
We always have it here.” 

Kathie’s jaw dropped, and all the laughter 
died out of her eyes. Cresty sang on, how- 
ever, and Roy, followed by his friend, entered 
the room. 

Jack Boyd was speaking in a brisk tone, very 
unlike the shy, stammering one in which he 
had addressed the girls earlier that afternoon. 

“ If you only knew what a treat it is to me, 
you wouldn’t have asked that question. I 
have no real home, you know : neither mother 
nor father, neither brother nor sister — only an 
old uncle, who sends me to Dr. Clay ” 

His earnest voice dropped as he caught 
sight of Kathie standing behind the big canary 
cage. 

Gyneth jumped off the window seat, the 
sensitive color mounting her face as she 
suddenly became aware of the rent and the 
two missing buttons and the presence of a 
stranger. 

“ It’s my friend. Jack Boyd,” introduced 
Roy. “ I’ve told you about him, G5meth.” 

And Jack thought what a sweet face it was, 
and envied his friend the possession of his 
sisters. But his shy, stammering tongue had 


KATHIE. 


I2I 


returned to him, and poor Gyneth attributed 
his shyness to his knowledge of her torn frock. 

She made her exit from the room as soon as 
he turned his attention to Kathie s canaries, 
and ran up against Fea and Nannie on the 
stairs, in her short-sighted way. 

“Is that boy going to stay for tea?" she 
whispered. 

“What boy?" 

“Jack Boyd." 

“ Fm sure I don’t know," returned Fea, with 
a severe look. “ Has Roy asked him without 
consulting me ? " 

“ Oh ! " returned Gyneth, “ I wish he hadn’t 
seen me in this horrid dress. And now I’ll 
lose so much time going to change it. I wish 
Roy would give us notice when he does such 
a thing as that." And she pursued her way 
upstairs, with her mind equally distracted 
between the vision of her torn skirt, as seen in 
the eyes of a stranger, and of the chief actors 
in the French Revolution. 

Feadora advanced in the schoolroom with 
head held very erect, and Nannie, behind the 
shelter of her back, patted her own neat little 
blouse and skirt with a satisfied hand, and tip- 
toed to catch a glimpse of her face and hair in 
a hanging mirror upon the wall. 

If Jack Boyd was startled into admiring awe 
at sight of the eldest Miss Oakley, it was only 
what she intended him to be, as she swept in 


122 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


with her most dignified air, put on for that 
moment to quench Roy for his audacity in 
inviting boys to the house, without first asking 
her permission. 

But Roy was not quenched— he never would 
be by anything Fea could do or say. What 
hurt him infinitely more was Kathie’s way of 
comporting herself towards his best and chosen 
friend. Why did she hold so much aloof from 
them, and not enter into the conversation in 
her usual hearty manner ? He missed the 
frank tones and the cheerful laugh, and began 
to think for the first time what a blank he 
would find his home to be if Kathie were 
always like this. 

He kept turning inquiring eyes upon her, 
penitent, affectionate ones they were, too, or 
so Kathie fancied. And so she began to thaw, 
very imperceptibly at first ; but a gradual 
thaw has its influences, even though the frost 
may have been severe. 

The tea was in full progress when Gyneth 
made her appearance in a fresh dress and hair 
a little more tidily arranged. Carlyle was 
under her arm still, and Roy could not resist 
a sly — 

“ Chuck the old fellow away just now, 
Gyneth. He’ll spoil your tea, if you keep him 
so close.” 

Gyneth smiled and blushed, and laid her 
book aside, and Jack wondered that such a 


KATHIE. 


123 


sweet, quiet-looking girl should be the clever 
Miss Oakley who helped Roy with his Latin. 

Nannie was bent on patronizing Roy’s friend, 
and pressed on him the blackberry jam, with 
the assurance that “ it was very good, and 
entirely home-made.” 

“ Feadora,” said Roy suddenly ; and Jack was 
struck at the mocking stress laid upon the 
name — “ I was near forgetting to give you a 
message that father sent by me. He’s afraid 
he won’t be home in time for dinner to-day.” 

“ Oh ! Roy ! ” 

The exclamation came from all the sisters in 
one breath. And Kathie added, “ Our Satur- 
day dinner, too ! ” 

“ Yes, it’s a beastly shame,” said Roy. “ He 
said he was awfully sorry, and he’d try and get 
back as soon as he could, but that we were not 
to wait for him, as he was so uncertain.” 

“ Wulf away, too ! ” murmured Gyneth. “ It 
won’t seem a bit like our usual Saturday.” 

It was on the tip of Fea’s tongue to say that 
she would try and make things pass pleasantly ; 
but, somehow, the words would not come ; for 
she could not conscientiously think that the 
preceding Saturdays had been happy ones, 
owing to so many fault-findings on her part. 
Instead, she said with real concern — 

“ Is some one so ill that father could not be 
back in time ? Who is it, Roy ; do you know ? ” 

“ He said he had been called in a hurry to 


124 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


visit some one living in the thatched house past 
our thistling orchard.'’ 

“The Maze ! ” exclaimed Nannie in an awe- 
stricken voice. Then she glanced guiltily at 
Kathie, and subsided, crushed at meeting with 
a severe frown. 

“Yes, The Maze — the haunted house," 
grinned Roy. “ I wonder if it’s the ghost 
that father’s got to doctor.” 

“ Did he tell you what was the matter with 
— with the — the person there ? ” asked Nannie, 
positively unable to resist putting the question, 
in spite of Kathie’s frowning attitude on the 
other side of the table. 

“ A likely thing father would tell me, isn’t 
it ? ” scoffed Roy. 

“ I hope he has had some tea before going 
off so far,” said Fea. 

“ I met him coming out of Cousin Felicia’s, 
so he must have had tea with her,” was Roy’s 
reply. 

The thought of the doctor’s enforced absence 
from the dinner-table that evening was dis- 
quieting. It was the first break in the Satur- 
day’s programme that had taken place since 
Mrs. Oakley’s death. Fea was troubled. She 
had an uneasy conviction that, with herself 
alone in command, the evening would end in 
riot. How could she prevent it ? Her eye 
fell upon the fresh-faced, frank-eyed schoolboy 
at the tea-table, and her mind was made up. 


KATHIE. 


125 


He would prove a bulwark of strength against 
Roy’s attacks. 

“Would you like to ask your friend to stay 
to dinner ? ” she said quietly. 

Roy stared. So did the others. And 
Kathie’s stare turned into a heavy frown. 
Strangers, as a rule, were never invited on 
Saturdays. Mrs. Oakley had made that point 
very firm. It was just the quiet home-gather- 
ing that made it so pleasant. 

But as to-day was destined to be so cheated 
out of its two most popular members — Roy 
hesitated, and the stare he had bestowed upon 
Feadora passed away into a look of pleasure. 

“ I say, that would be prime ! Boyd, 
couldn’t you stay ? ” 

Boyd flushed up. 

“ It’s awfully kind of you. Miss Oakley,” he 
stammered, “ and I would like to stop— only I 
haven’t done — my preparation for Monday.” 

“ That’s no matter. You can do it here with 
me,” returned Roy promptly. “ I always finish 
off my prep, just before dinner. Gyneth will 
give us a hand, won’t you, old girl, if any stiff 
bits crop up ? ” 

Gyneth acquiesced warmty. And so the 
matter was settled. And only Jack noticed 
that Kathie suddenly relapsed into unbroken 
silence, which lasted till the tea was over, when 
she made a sudden bolt from the schoolroom. 

She dashed into her own room, and banged 


126 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

the door after her, almost banging Nannie’s 
nose off. 

“ Oh ! Kathie,” cried the latter, hammering 
on the door, “ let me in, do ! ” 

“ What on earth do you want ? ” exclaimed 
Kathie, in her gruffest tone, opening the door 
a few inches. 

But Nannie was undaunted. She slipped 
part of her body in, and remained there 
jammed. 

“ What is it ?” repeated Kathie. 

“ Why, you are crying ? ” said Nannie, look- 
ing inquisitively at her. Then in a whisper — 
“ Are you crying for her ? ” 

“ For whom ? ” was the impatient answer, 
as Kathie furtively brushed the back of her 
hand over her tell-tale eyes. 

“ The sick lady at The Maze.” 

Kathie’s gruffness and impatience disap- 
peared in a burst of laughter. “ Oh ! Nannie, 
you foolish, foolish goose,” she cried ; “ what 
makes you fancy I am thinking of her ? ” 

“ I don’t see why not,” returned Nannie, 
slipping her body further in as Kathie relaxed 
her hold on the door. “ Aren’t you anxious 
about her ? I am. Supposing she dies with- 
out telling any one the secret, wouldn’t you be 
sorry you hadn’t gone into the garden to 
hear it ? ” 

That was a matter which had not pressed 
upon Kathie at all. In fact, she had forgotten 


KATHIE. 


127 


all about the sick lady at The Maze in her 
jealous indignation at hearing Jack Boyd in- 
vited to stay for the Saturday dinner. 

“ The dinner— out dinner,” she had kept re- 
iterating, as she had bounded up the stairs 
two steps at a time, little dreaming of the 
swift-footed Nannie close on her heels. 

“ Wouldn’t you ? ” repeated Nannie, sidling 
further in, till at last she was standing on the 
inside of the door. “ Kathie, could you ever 
forgive yourself for not waiting to hear the 
secret ? I couldn’t.” 

Kathie looked grave. “ She wouldn’t tell it 
to us whilst we were standing on the hedge,” 
she said ponderingly. “ It was her own fault 
if she wanted to tell it out so much.” 

“But you heard her say that hedges had ears 
as well as walls,” said Nannie, in a tone of 
rebuke. 

“ Perhaps she will tell it to father,” said 
Kathie in a relieved tone. “ Don’t worry, 
Nan. Yes, she’s sure to tell him, if she’s going 
to die.” 

“ She would never tell him,” said Nannie, 
in a tone of conviction. “ Father is not kind 
to her.” 

“You can’t tell that. She looked quite 
pleasant, and nodded her head when I told 
her that first day that Dr. Oakley was my 
father.” 

“ I heard that horrid housekeeper say that the 


128 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


doctor would forbid her going into the garden. 
Fancy that ! Her only pleasure, too ! 

“ Oh ! rubbish ! I wish I hadn’t told you,’* 
said Kathie impatiently. Do go away now, 
and leave me to myself.” 

“ What are you going to do ? ” peering round 
the room with bright eyes. 

“ My prep.” 

“ Up here ? Why, Kathie, we’ll all be doing 
ours downstairs.” 

“ I can’t learn with so much jabbering going 
on, as there will be with that new boy there. 
Go away, Nannie, do, and leave me in peace.” 

“ Well, promise first that we’ll both go to 
the orchard next Saturday. I wonder if I’ll 
live till then ! I’m sim-ply dying to see that 
poor, po-or thing again.” 

Kathie’s good-humor was again restored, as 
she burst into another laugh. 

“ I dare say you’ll exist till then. Ask Vir- 
ginie for a dose of Gregory, if you think there’s 
something that will kill you before that time. 
Or perhaps I’ll ask her,” mischievously. 

Nannie’s bright eyes gave another look of 
rebuke. Kathie took it all in too light a spirit. 
She — Nannie — was nigh becoming heartbroken 
at not having consented to go there, and then 
into the garden for just the little space of five 
minutes, when the secret would have been 
poured into their ears — a secret which seemed 
evidently too burdensome to be borne alone 


KATHIE. 


129 


by the sick lady. Nannie wouldn’t own even 
to herself that her curiosity was excessive. 
No ; it was only to relieve the burden of a 
poor sorrowful soul that her ears were willing 
to receive the telling of a sad tale of cruelty 
and neglect. 

She turned to leave the room, for Kathie 
was evidently not going to settle down to her 
books until she found she was alone again. 

“ You won’t tell Roy, nor any one else, about 
the sick lady?” Nannie paused to say, as she 
made towards the door. 

“ No, no, of course not. I wish you'd go, 
Nan.” 

“ And you’ll promise to go next Saturday ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, if it’s fine. I’m not going to walk 
in pools and ponds of rain just because you are 
dying of curiosity to hear what she’s got to 
say.” 

“ If it’s fine, you’ll go ?” 

“ Upon my word. Nan, you’d beat every one 
hollow for persistence. If it’s fine. Miss Nan- 
nie Oakley, I hope to do myself the inesti- 
mable pleasure of going thistling next Saturday 
afternoon ; and if you have not worried your- 
self into your grave by then, I trust you will 
give me the exquisite pleasure of your company. 
There ! will that satisfy you ? ” 

‘‘ And if the sick lady invites us, you’ll go 
into the garden to hear the secret ? ” 

For answer, Kathie laid firm hands on Nan- 
9 


130 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


nie's shoulders and ran her out of the room, 
landing her breathless on the mat outside, and, 
turning the key in the lock, she shut herself 
into the room alone. 

“ ril have some peace now,” she exclaimed. 
But she drew forth no books, only sat on the 
bed with her head in her hands, thinking. 
And only a quarter-of-an-hour before the din- 
ner bell rang did she rouse herself to get ready. 

On the stairs she met Roy and his friend 
rushing headlong up. The dinner bell was 
ringing, and Roy nodded to her brightly, as he 
exclaimed — 

“ My prep.’s done. Done yours ? ” 

Kathie shook her head. And Roy stopped 
in his speed. 

“ Nannie said you were doing yours upstairs,” 
he said slowly. 

“ I-didn’t.” 

Something in the big brown eyes— Kathie’s 
one beauty — revealed to dense Roy a little of 
what Kathie was feeling— desertion and jealousy. 
He laid his hand in an old affectionate way on 
her shoulder. 

“ As soon as dinner is over, you and I will 
separate from the others— Boyd won’t mind — 
and I’ll help you all I can.” He lowered his 
voice. “ She always liked us to finish it up 
before dinner, but it couldn’t be helped this 
time, old chum, could it ? ” 

The big eyes were wet as Kathie lifted them 


KATHIE. 


to meet his. His pet name for her, and the 
reference made to the dear mother, had 
brought the tears and taken away the burning 
feeling of jealousy that had been tightening 
round her heart all the time she sat in her 
room. 

Jack Boyd had continued his way upstairs. 
He had an intuitive feeling that Kathie, of all 
the Oakleys, was the only one who did not 
favor him. It troubled him not a little, for he 
wanted them all to like him. And Kathie, as 
Roy had often told him, was his special 
favorite. She's my chum, you know,” he 
had said. “ A ripping girl, who’ll stand by 
you no matter what happens. Once she gives 
her liking she’ll never take it away again.” 

And poor Jack was feeling that she hadn’t 
given her liking yet to him. Would she ever 
do so ? He hoped so ; or his intimacy with 
the Oakleys would be but a very half-hearted 
affair, if Roy’s favorite sister withheld her 
approval of him. 

‘‘ Did Cousin Felicia tell you how Ronnie 
was ? ” said Gyneth, as they all seated them- 
selves round the dinner-table. 

“ She said he was in a roaring state of health,” 
replied Roy. 

“ She never expressed herself so,” was Fea’s 
comment, as she took her father's seat and 
began to carve. 

“ Something very like it,” returned Roy 


132 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


carelessly ; “ and father quite agreed with her. 
Ronnie comes home to-morrow, and doesn’t 
fancy it very much, I think. He’s had a rare 
time at Cousin Felicia’s. I shouldn’t mind re- 
cruiting there myself, after a bout of typhoid 
or smallpox.” 

The sound of carriage wheels outside was 
drowned by the horrified exclamation from 
the girls, and a laugh from Jack Boyd. But 
presently, the noise of the front door opening 
and shutting made the young Oakleys pause to 
listen. 

“ It’s father ! ” they cried all together. 

Jack Boyd looked hot and embarrassed. 
He knew this was the family dinner to which 
they all looked forward, and to which he 
would not have been asked if the doctor had 
not absented himself from it. He stood up, 
flushing a deep crimson. 

“ Oh ! perhaps I ought to go. Miss Oakley,” 
he stammered, looking first at Fea and then at 
Kathie in an agony of embarrassment. “ If it’s 
the doctor, I’d better go.” 

“ He won’t eat you,” replied Roy. 

And at that moment the dining-room door 
opened, and Dr. Oakley looked in. 

“ Ah ! I am in time. But I am afraid you 
waited, Fea. I’ll be with you very soon, my 
dear,” and he disappeared again. 

“ Miss Oakley ” — Jack’s tone vras very ear- 
nest,— “ oughtn’t I to go ? ” 


KATHIE. 


133 


“ Certainly not. Father will be pleased to 
see you,” was Fea’s reply, as, the carving over, 
she relinquished her seat for her own at the 
opposite end of the table. 

Jack shot an inquiring glance at Kathie, to 
meet with a pleasant smile of approval which 
almost overwhelmed him. 

Kathie could afford to smile when her heart 
was feeling so light. Wasn’t Roy actually 
going to leave his friend after dinner, and 
devote himself to help her in her studies ? 
Kathie’s affectionate heart swelled at the very 
thought. 

The doctor came in and seated himself in the 
place Fea had vacated. He nodded to Jack 
pleasan^y, and said he was glad to see him ; 
but there was a worried look in his face which 
did not escape Kathie’s affectionate eyes. 

“ You are tired, father,” she said. 

“ A little,” was the answer. 

“ You need not go out again to-night, need 
you ? ” 

“ I must.” 

** To ‘ The Maze ’ ? ” questioned Nannie, with 
wide open eyes. 

Dr. Oakley stared at her. “ What do you 
know about ‘ The Maze ’ ? ” he questioned in 
his turn. 

“ Roy said you were going to see some one 
there,” answered Kathie quickly, with a sharp 
look at her younger sister. 


134 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ I see. Yes/’ he answered absently. 

“ Is the lady very sick, father ? ” continued 
Nannie, curiosity emboldening her to defy 
Kathie and satisfy herself. 

“ So, so.” 

What’s the matter with her ? ” persisted 
Nannie. 

The doctor laid down his knife and fork. 
“ Upon my word. Miss Curiosity ! ” he ejacu- 
lated. “ What causes this inquisitiveness ? 
And what do you know about the sick lady ? ” 

Kathie had been darting angry looks at her all 
the time. Now, as she caught Nannie’s eyes 
turned to her for assistance, she rushed to the 
rescue. 

“ She’s a goose, is Nannie ! ” she exclaimed 
hurriedly. We saw some lady walking about 
the garden of ‘ The Maze ’ whilst we were 
picking thistles, and she has been quite excited 
at hearing you were visiting her. She is so 
silly ! ” she ended, in subdued wrath. 

“You — saw— her?” repeated the doctor 
slowly. “ How could you ? And where were 
you at the time ? ” 

“ Oh ! in Tyler’s orchard, near the bank that 
bounds the garden of ‘ The Maze,’ ” answered 
Kathie, mentally determining to let Nannie 
“ catch it” for exposing her to this examination, 
which had certainly not been of her seeking. 

The doctor resumed his knife and fork, but 
his brow was thoughtful. 


KATHIE. 


135 

“ Can you look into the garden from the 
orchard ? he asked, after a pause. 

“ Into a part of it— not all,’' returned Kathie 
reluctantly. 

“ Can you not get thistles near at hand?” he 
asked. “ That orchard is a long way from here.” 

Not such good ones,” replied Kathie. 

And Nannie, scenting some restrictive com- 
mands, burst out : “ Oh ! father, don’t say we 
mustn’t go there. Such delicious juicy thistles 
are there, and Deborah loves them, and so 
does Nero.” 

“ And so, apparently, do you,” smiled the 
doctor, his brow lifting with the smile. “ But 
I cannot say I altogether approve of your going 
so far from home. Can’t those insatiable pets 
of yours do without thistles ? ” 

But this produced an immediate outcry, Roy 
joining in as heartily as the other two ; upon 
which the doctor merely said, much to Kathie’s 
relief — 

“ Well, don’t get into any mischief when you 
go so far away from home. And, Roy, I hope 
you accompany your sisters on these expedi- 
tions. I look to you, you know, to see after 
them.” 

Roy flushed up and murmured something 
which seemed to satisfy his father. 

But Jack made another mental determina- 
tion to go thistling next Saturday, whether 
Kathie wished him to do so or not. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


WULFRIC’S RETURN. 

“ Every person has two educations : one which he receives 
from others, and one, more important, which he gives himself.” 

Anon, 

FEADORAwas standing in Cousin Felicia's 
dining-room with a defiant expression on her 
face. 

Cousin Felicia had sent for her, and Fea’s 
every movement showed that she was there 
against her will. 

A newspaper was spread upon the table, and 
on it was a large tray covered with vases, which 
Cousin Felicia was filling with daffodils. 

“ Isn’t that a beauty ? ” she asked, lifting one 
for inspection. “ I think the Incomparahilis 
are finer this year than they have ever been.” 

Fea assented with indifference, the defiant 
air still upon her. 

“ Sit down, Fea. You must excuse me, my 
dear, for I cannot get into the new name by 
which I am told you wish to be called. By 
degrees, I dare say my tongue will come round 
it, though why I cannot bring myself to call 
you Feadora is more than I can tell, when it 

136 


WULFRIC’S RETURN. 


137 


was I who chose the name for you before your 
christening.” 

Fea said nothing, only her face darkened. 
It was the children, of course, thought she, 
who had rushed to tell Cousin Felicia of her 
dislike of the old name of Fea. She wished 
she could assume a firmer hold on them. 
They were not proving as tractable as she had 
hoped. 

Indeed, remembering what they had been 
in her mother’s lifetime, she could not but say 
that they were growing far less obedient than 
formerly ; and the more she tightened the 
reins, so much the more did they defy her rule. 

Roy and Kathie were the ringleaders, 
Gyneth, on occasions, could become tire- 
somely obtuse when altercations arose — which 
alas ! were now of daily occurrence, and 
Nannie and Ronnie rioted in consequence. 

She longed often for Wulf s presence. But 
Uncle Stanley still kept him in London, and 
Fea was beginning to grow restive at his con- 
tinued absence. Wulf surely would not see 
her put so openly at defiance were he at home. 
She would not seek the help which she knew 
she had but to ask for. No ; Fea held 
proudly aloof from asking advice of Cousin 
Felicia or of good old Virginie, both of whom 
were becoming much pained at the constant 
friction. 

It was telling, too, on Fea herself. A dark, 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


138 

unhappy expression was taking possession of 
the once bright cheerful face, and Cousin 
Felicia saw it, and was grieved. 

“ Wulf not back yet, I hear ? ” she asked 
in her pleasant voice. 

“ No.'' Fea’s tone was almost sullen. 

“ Oh ! he cannot be long in returning now. 
Let me see— since when has he been away ? " 

“To-morrow will make three weeks,” was 
the reply. 

“ Dear, dear, how time does fly ! It seems 
to me only a few days.” 

It didn’t to Fea. Judging from her looks, 
months might have passed since she bade 
Wulf good-bye, and handed him his Gladstone 
bag neatly packed by herself. 

“ He will come soon,” nodded Cousin 
Felicia, encouragingly, holding up another 
doffodil with an admiring gesture. “ And 
hell bring your uncle along with him when 
he comes.” 

This was another unconscious stab to Fea, 
for no cook worthy of the name had been 
secured to take Mary’s place, and until such 
an one was secured, Fea did not wish for her 
uncle’s presence. 

As if in continuation of her thoughts. 
Cousin Felicia said quietly — 

“ Have you got some one to replace Mary ?” 

Fea started. How did Cousin Felicia know ? 
It must have been Virginie who had told. 


WULFRIC’S RETURN. 


139 


“ No,” she said in a downcast tone, partly 
sullen, partly defiant. 

“ Mary came to ask me yesterday if I could 
get her a situation as good as the one she has 
with you. I was surprised to hear she was 
leaving, and told her so, upon which she said 
the new young mistress and she could not 
hit it ofi together. Is that so, dear ? ” she 
inquired, kindly. 

If Fea had only been a trifle more observ- 
ant she would have noticed how much gent- 
ler was Cousin Felicia’s manner now from 
her former brusque way. But poor Fea was 
too much wrapped up in her own grievances 
and trials to take particular note of the un- 
usual kindness of tone and manner. 

I suppose my way isnT hers, and hers isn’t 
mine,” she replied, too proud, and a little 
shamed, to give the real reason for Mary’s 
going away. 

Mrs. Danvers picked up daffodils and 
popped them into vacant places with a 
thoughtful expression on her face. 

“ It is altogether stupid of Mary to give up 
such an excellent situation for one she knows 
nothing of,” she said at length. “ And I told 
her so pretty plainly.” 

“And what did she say?” exclaimed Fea, 
her face brightening a little, for she knew that 
Cousin Felicia’s advice would go a good way 
with Mary, if that worthy chose to take it. 


140 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


And deep down in Fea’s heart there lurked a 
secret hope that Mary would ask, even at the 
eleventh hour, to stay on. 

“ Ah ! servants nowadays are not what they 
were in my time,” returned Felicia, with a 
mournful shake of the head. “ A good situa- 
tion was one to be clung to, not to be lightly 
cast aside for any fresh place that might turn 
up. To be sure, Mary can get better suited 
with another good place than you, my dear, 
can get suited with another cook. How about 
Sarah ? She is all right, 1 hope ? ” 

“ Sarah is going, too,” said Fea in a low 
voice. 

Cousin Felicia refrained from making even 
one exclamation, though strongly tempted. 

“Ah! well,” she said, “a housemaid is more 
easily procured than a cook. When do they 
go ? ” 

“ Next week.’* Fea’s voice was lower still. 

“ Have you got anyone in your mind’s eye ? ” 

“ I have a housemaid, but not a cook.” 

“ Secured the housemaid ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ I wish,” — and Cousin Felicia could not re- 
frain from saying this — “ I wish you had let me 
have a final interview with her, but that can’t 
be helped. Has Virginie seen her ? ” 

No.” Fea’s voice had taken up its ordi- 
nary tone, and her head was beginning to look 
stiff. 


WULFRIC’S RETURN. 


141 

“ Would you like me to see about a cook ? ” 

Mrs. Danver’s tone was very kindly, but Fea 
had become nettled at that reference to Vir- 
ginie ; and, though longing to give in, was too 
proud to do so. 

“ No, thank you. Cousin Felicia,” she said. 
“ I think I can manage.” 

“Very well,” and Cousin Felicia nodded 
her head good-humoredly. “ Come to me 
when you want me. You will always find me 
willing to assist you, dear.” 

And as Fea walked homeward the memory 
of that good-humored smile was before her, 
and she wished with all her heart that her pride 
had let her give in ; for oh ! how sick she was 
of servants and of housekeeping, and of ruling 
children. 

The house seemed to be in commotion when 
she got in. A cab was standing at the door, 
and the cabman was carrying a big trunk up the 
staircase. Virginie was ahead of him with her 
cap strings flying, and Ronnie was jumping up 
and down the first step, shouting — 

“ Uncle Stanley and Wulf have come ! ” 

Fea caught him by the arm. “ Is it true ? 
Have they come ? ” 

“Yes, they've come. See, Wulf has given 
me this,” producing a bright shilling from his 
pocket. “ I wish you’d let me go, Fea. I 
want to run to the gate to see if there are any 
more boxes,” and, wrenching himself out of 


142 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


her grasp, Ronnie went racing down to the 
gate. 

F ea continued her way slowly upstairs. The 
remembrance of Jane’s going away next week 
loomed dismally before her. Six days were 
left to her to secure a new cook. And when 
secured would she prove a success ? 

Fea remembered, with a fresh pang, how 
particular her mother had always been about 
the cooking when her uncle was living with 
them. He was so delicate, so easily upset by 
inferior cooking. And her mother had always 
praised Jane’s abilities in this line. With a 
heart sinking lower and lower, Feadora gained 
the landing. 

The door of the spare room was open, and 
there, on his knees, wrestling with an obstinate 
trunk strap, was a tall, delicate-looking man 
with an artist’s face. 

“ Uncle Stanley ! ’’cried Fea, her annoyance 
vanishing for the moment in the delight of 
seeing him. 

“ Ah ! Fea, you see we’ve taken you by sur- 
prise. Not proper behavior at all towards so 
youthful a housekeeper ’’—kissing her. “ But 
we shall make due amends by becoming very 
docile, and giving as little trouble as possible ” 

Fea looked round the room. Her uncle’s 
easel and painting materials had already been 
unpacked, and he was down again on his knees, 
struggling with the strap. 


WULFRIC’S RETURN. 


143 


“ Don’t do that, uncle. John can do it when 
he comes home, or Wulf will, if you can’t wait 
so long.” 

Mr. Keith shook his head. “ It’s my picture, 
Fea ; very much unfinished ; but I’ve brought 
it with me to touch up here. I cannot leave 
it packed up an instant longer than can be 
helped. There ! ” setting his lips together, 
“ that’s all ! Now the rest is easy.” 

Fea waited to see the end of the unpacking, 
and was rewarded by the sight of a beautiful 
face, done in oils. It was a lady in evening 
dress, very much bejeweled, with a diamond 
necklace encircling her fair throat. 

Mr. Keith held the painting up, with pardon- 
able pride, for his niece’s inspection. 

“ My chef-d oeuvre^ I hope, Fea,” he said, 
laughing ; “or so, at least, Wulf calls it. He 
has driven me to bring it here, for I must com- 
plete it within a month.” 

“ What a lovely face ! Whose is it, uncle ? 
And is it a commission ? ” 

“ Yes, and a good one, too. Lord Dane has 
offered me for it, so I must needs accom- 
plish my task with skill. It is a picture I took 
of his wife.” 

“ It is the most beautiful face I have ever 
seen,” said Fea. “ It looks as if it will be your 
masterpiece. I am glad you brought it down 
here. We can see it when it is quite finished. 
Will you have it hung ?” 


144 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ I hope SO. I believe Lord Dane wishes it. 
But the work is very far from being complete 
yet. We must see how it looks when it is 
finished. 

Fea left him to continue his unpacking, and 
looked in at Wulf s room. He wasn’t there. 
So on she went downstairs, and hearing voices 
in the library pushed the door open. Her 
father and Wulf were standing by the window, 
with their backs turned to her. 

“Has she shown any grave symptoms?” 
Wulf was saying. 

“ No,” replied Dr. Oakley, “ not as yet. But, 
as you can understand, Wulf, it is not very safe 
to have her there, but Felicia was very in- 
sistent— too insistent, I tell her ” 

He broke off as Fea came up to them, struck 
with concern at the exceeding gravity of her 
father’s voice. 

“Who is it?” she said. “What are you 
talking about ? ” 

“ About a patient,” said Wulf lightly. 
“How are you, Fea?” laying his hands on her 
shoulders, and holding her off from him for 
better inspection. “ Quite well ?” 

“Yes,” returned Fea, shrinking slightly from 
the critical look. “ How are you ? That’s 
more the point ? ” 

“ Right as a trivet, and feeling fit enough to 
take any amount of work off the dear old dad,” 
with a nod at the vanishing back of the docto . 


WULFRIC’S RETURN. 


145 


“ Have things been progressing fairly well at 
home, Fea ? ” 

“Y-yes, oh! yes, I think so— pretty well,” 
returned Fea falteringly, wondering, with an 
odd sort of feeling, why it was that she hoped 
Wulf would never call her anything but Fea 
all the rest of her life. The thought of the 
name Feadora from his lips was peculiarly dis- 
tasteful, bringing with it, as it did now, the 
remembrance of the disagreeable realities of 
her undertaking. Oh 1 for the others not to 
acquaint him of her wish to be called Feadora 1 
But there was no hope of any such luck. 

“ I don’t think you are looking altogether up 
to the mark ? ” continued Wulf, still studying 
her critically. “ Find the housekeeping try- 
ing, dear ? ” 

Fea fought bravely to keep the tears back 
and succeeded. 

“ It’s all new, of course,” she replied evasively. 
“ I’ll see you again, Wulf, later on ; I must just 
run and speak to father.” 

She was gone immediately, and Wulfric 
looking after her shook his head gravely. 

“ She looks a different girl ! Three weeks 
have made a greater change in her than I could 
have thought possible. I don’t like it, but we 
must continue to the end, I suppose. Mean- 
time, I must give her what help I can. I have 
been away too long from my post. The others 
have been attempting to ride roughshod over 

10 


146 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


her, I strongly suspect. I must keep stricter 
guard over Roy.” 

Fea caught sight of her father in Uncle 
Stanley’s room. Her uncle was seated astride 
his biggest packing case, his fair hair tossed in 
disorder, his delicate face full of concern. 
How much he looked, thought Fea, like her 
mother — his own sister. 

They were talking earnestly, and did not 
see her. 

“ I don’t think you should have allowed it, 
Arnold,” Mr. Keith was saying. 

Dr. Oakley passed a weary hand over his 
troubled brow. “I have almost thought so, 
too, Stanley. But what could I do ? Felicia 
seemed miserable at not having her near. But 
I think now, with you, that I have made a grave 
mistake.” 

“ I am sure of it,” was the answer. “ There 
is danger concerned in the whole affair. I 
wonder,” he said musingly, “ if I might ac- 
company you when next you visit her. She 
might remember me, for I used to know her 
in days gone by.” 

“ I dare hardly risk it,” was the doctor’s 
reply. 

“ She isn’t violent ?” questioned his brother- 
in-law in a startled tone. 

The doctor’s reply was made in too low a 
tone for Fea to hear. But she gathered that 
the conversation was a continuation of the one 


WULFRIC’S RETURN. 


147 


she had interrupted in the library, and a natural 
feeling of uneasiness stirred within her. Cousin 
Felicia’s name being so paramount made the 
uneasiness greater. What did it mean ? Her 
first impulse was to go in and boldly ask to be 
taken into confidence. It would surely not be 
denied her. 

And then the old prideful feeling crept up. 
She had been kept in ignorance of what she, 
as the eldest daughter of the house, should 
have been told. Very well ; it was not for her 
to pry into their affairs — Cousin Felicia’s espe- 
cially. So, with her head proudly erected, 
Fea turned from the door, thus losing an op- 
portunity of showing kindly anxiety where it 
could easily have been shown, and suppressing 
her first natural instincts of kindly alarm. 


CHAPTER XV. 

UNCLE STANLEY. 

“ 111 habits gather by unseen degrees, 

As brooks make rivers, rivers rim to seas." 

Dryden, 

“You will do it!” 

“ I will not 1 ” 

“ Roy, I lay my commands upon you 1 ” 

“ A fig for your commands 1 ” 

“ Do you want me to appeal to father ? ” 

Roy shrugged his shoulders, and turned to 
leave the room. 

Fea intercepted him. There they stood 
facing each other. Fea was flushed and 
angry ; Roy coolly indifferent, with an aggra- 
vating smile upon his face. 

“ If I were father,” said Fea passionately, 
“ I would send you to a boarding school, where 
the very strictest discipline was held.” 

“ But you see you are not father,” returned 
Roy, with stinging calmness. “ Pity, isn’t it ? ” 

And then Fea forgot herself, and struck him 
on the face with her open hand. 

The color rushed to Roy’s cheeks. He was 
no longer indifferent. His eyes blazed, and he 
raised his hand, only to drop it directly. 

148 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


149 


“ If you had been a fellow/’ he hissed, “ I 
would have paid you out with interest for 
that ! ” 

And, turning on his heel, he pushed past 
her. 

Fea looked after him in silence. She was 
ashamed of herself, and longed to tell him so ; 
but pride held her back. “ And then,” mur- 
mured the angry spirit within, “ he brought it 
on himself.” 

The contention was but a trifling one. They 
always were trifles over which Fea so often 
vexed her soul. And Roy, instead of trying 
to calm and pacify her, rejoiced in seeing the 
angry color flush her cheek, and would lead 
her on from one thing to another with such 
aggravating coolness that Fea was often beside 
herself with passion. 

She stood now with her hands tightly 
clenched together, in a vain effort to regain 
calmness. 

The three younger girls, who were also in 
the room, paid but little heed to the altercation 
going on. It was a state of things to which, 
unhappily, they were becoming accustomed. 
But now, at the end of it, Gyneth slipped from 
the room to seek more comfortable quarters 
elsewhere, for Fea was given to turning 
her anger on those who were left last in the 
field. 

Apparently for the same reason, Kathie and 


FEODORA’S FAILURE. 


150 

Nan rushed off by the side entrance, equipped 
for work in Tyler’s orchard. For it was Satur- 
day—///^ Saturday for which Nannie’s soul had 
been hungering all the week. 

Fea was left alone, some instinct telling her 
why the others had fled so precipitately from 
the room. 

As she stood there, she saw Roy pass the 
window whistling, his fishing tackle thrown over 
his shoulder. Jack Boyd was lingering about 
the gate, apparently waiting for him. Jack 
showed up a basket and a knife, and shook his 
head at the fishing gear. The wind blew por- 
tions of their conversation to Fea as she stood 
by the open window. 

“ I told you I intended going thistling this 
afternoon . . . not fair for your sisters to 

do all the work.” Jack’s tone was vexed. 

“ Dull work,” she heard Roy say. 

And then Jack’s answer, as quick as light- 
ning, was wafted to her— 

“You shouldn’t keep rabbits then. Come 
Oakley, we can have just as much fun in the 
orchard as down by the river. For to Tyler’s 
I am bound this afternoon.” 

Roy's figure looked like yielding. He be- 
gan to retrace his steps to the house, and com- 
ing up with a rush, he flung back his fishing 
tackle through the side window of the school- 
room, without giving a glance at Fea. Both 
boys started off down the road in the opposite 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


*51 

direction to which Roy had been going. They 
took the road which led to the thistling 
orchard. 

Fea’s heart felt hot and burning within her. 
Conflicting emotions struggled for the su- 
premacy. At one moment she felt she hated 
Roy, and the next she hated herself for having 
plunged into an altercation which had ended 
in a way that had startled even herself. It 
was only during these last few weeks that she 
learnt what a temper she possessed. Never 
before in her life had she raised her hand to 
strike any one. And to-day she had done it. 
Fea’s head drooped as she thought of it. And 
the girls had been looking on ! Much of the 
sting lay there. What had they thought of 
her? 

The schoolroom door suddenly opened, and 
Virginie looked in. 

“ Miss Feadora, dear, have you got the 
needles and wool for making the master's 
socks ? Mary Holt has come for them." 

“ Oh ! Virginie, I forgot to buy them." 

“ This was the day I had arranged for her. 
She's come all the way from Luton for the 
work. I promised her it would be ready when 
she came. I am sorry. Miss Feadora." 

“ So am I," and Fea’s tone was very penitent. 

Couldn't you keep her here while I run out 
and buy them ? " 

“ Yes, I will. She won't be sorry to have a 


152 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

meal, I dare say, as she’s tramped such a long 
way.” 

“ ril be back in a few minutes,” said Fea 
hurriedly. And she was as good as her 
word. 

Breathlessly she came back and laid the 
paper parcel before Virginie, who opened it 
whilst exclaiming at the celerity with which 
she had accomplished her mission. But the 
old servant’s face changed as she examined 
the contents. She tested the wool and bent 
the needles, and then looked up with a hope- 
less air. 

“ These are not one bit of good for the kind 
of socks the master wants. The wool is poor 
and thin, and oh ! dear, these needles are not 
the sort at all.” 

“ Well, why didn’t you tell me what you 
wanted,” said Fea in a heated tone. 

“ When I spoke to you before about it, you 
said you knew very well what was wanted, so 
I thought no more about the matter. But it is 
my own fault,” said Virginie good-naturedly, 
sorry for Fea’s mortification ; “ I should not 
have taken it for granted that you knew. I 
should have explained what was needed. I’ll 
slip into the kitchen and tell Mary to sit a bit 
till I come back.” And Virginie whisked out 
of the room and out of the house in less time 
than Fea could give her credit for. 

Fea leaned back in her chair, tired with her 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


153 


useless run, and with the troubled feeling still 
at her heart. 

What a wearisome day it had been ! It 
was Saturday, too. Somehow everything 
seemed to go wrong on Saturday. She was 
literally beginning to hate the day which had 
always been one of sunshine when her mother 
was alive. And then her thoughts fled to other 
things. She wondered how the new cook 
was going to dish up the dinner that evening. 
She had not been a success so far, but then, 
she had only come yesterday, and probably 
everything was very new to her. 

Fea had hopes that the evening dinner 
would pass off better than that day's luncheon 
had done. It was that that had upset her, and 
made her temper so irritable with Roy. He 
had laughed all through luncheon at the hard 
potatoes, and had cracked jokes with Kathie 
as to the desirability of “ shying ” them at the 
new cook's head, just to see if they would make 
any impression on it. Her father had said 
nothing beyond merely begging his brother-in- 
law not to attempt the beefsteak unless he 
wished to bring upon himself an acute attack 
of indigestion. 

How hardly poor Fea felt herself being 
dealt with is difficult to say. Who could have 
expected Uncle Stanley to turn up just at this 
period when things were at sixes and sevens 
in the kitchen ! Virginie, too, seemed quite 


154 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


touchy at having to run about and show the 
two new servants their work. “ One at a time 
would of been plenty,” Fea had heard her 
murmuring when the new housemaid had been 
worrying to know what her next duty was, and 
the cook was making inquiries at the same 
time as to where the soda was kept. 

Fea had been so frantic in her endeavors 
at last to get a cook that she had seized upon 
one which she felt certain was not nearly so 
good as many others she had rejected in the 
earlier days of interviewing. It had been the 
same with the housemaid. And most fervently 
Fea hoped that they would pull together some- 
how. 

At this point of her meditations her uncle 
came in. Fea half expected a reproof as to 
her housekeeping abilities, but evidently noth- 
ing was further from Mr. Keith’s thoughts. 
He smiled as he seated himself in a chair by 
the table, and drew towards him the ink- 
stand. 

“ This is the pleasantest room in the house,” 
he remarked. “ It is for that reason I so 
often intrude upon you here, Feadora.” 

Fea winced. She always did now when 
she heard herself so called. She knew the 
children were at the bottom of this again, and 
that her uncle was merely thinking he was 
pleasing her by putting aside the old name of 
Fea. Wulf still kept to it, and she was thank- 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


155 


ful to him for doing so. But Cousin Felicia 
and Dr. Oakley had at last fallen into the way 
of calling her Feadora, albeit there was always 
a twinkle in the doctor’s eyes whenever he 
made use of the name. 

‘‘ Yes, it is a nice room,” she forced herself 
to say. “ Mother always said she liked us to 
have a cheerful room. She thought it had a 
good effect upon our spirits and — tempers,” 
she had nearly said, but stopped herself. 

“ Your mother was right, as she always 
was,” returned the artist. “ A sweeter, wiser 
woman never lived, Feadora.” 

Fea choked down a sob that had stolen into 
her throat. Who but she could so truly echo 
his words when, as week after week went by 
and she found herself in some dilemma or 
other, she had begun to marvel by what magic 
had her mother made the home to glide so 
smoothly onwards. Year after year, year after 
year, the house had moved as if on wheels, 
when only weeks and months had plunged 
Fea headlong into intricacies of all kinds. 

“ Uncle Stanley, don’t you think that the 
others should treat me with greater respect 
than they do?” Fea’s troubled heart was 
longing for sympathy, and the kind, gentle 
glance which her uncle turned upon her at 
her words encouraged her to dive deeper into 
her griefs. “ Just see the load of responsibility 
I have taken upon myself to make the others 


156 FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

happy and to keep the privacy of our home 
sacred.” 

She paused a moment, rather pleased at 
the ending up of her sentence. The privacy 
of our home sacred,” she repeated, lingering 
over the words as if she enjoyed saying them. 

Mr. Keith smiled slightly, but his tone was 
grave as he asked : “In what way have you 
prevented your home from being intruded 
upon ? ” 

“ Didn’t father tell you ?” Pea’s eyes were 
extended to their widest. “ Why, if I had not 
come to the rescue, we should have had a 
common sort of person in the house, a work- 
ing housekeeper whom we should all have had 
to acknowledge as our head. She would have 
given the orders, and looked after the servants 
and things in general, and we should have had 
to go to her for advice.” 

“ No common, uneducated woman could 
have filled such a post, Feadora. But there 
are many women of cultured refinement who 
would willingly have undertaken the respon- 
sibility, and it would have been only one such, 
I feel sure, that your father would have chosen 
had he decided upon a stranger entering the 
house. And such an one you need never have 
objected to.” 

“ But don’t you think it was much better 
for me to do it ? ” 

“ Do you think so yourself ? ” 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


*57 


“ I did then, and I would do so now if only 
the others upheld me in my authority. They 
make my work doubly hard for me by putting 
obstacles in my way and trying to upset my 
temper.” Fea’s voice choked. 

“ As you have asked me what I think of your 
having undertaken the household manage- 
ment, I must tell you frankly, Fea, that I think 
it would have been wiser had you left it 
alone.” 

“ That is because of our bad luncheon to- 
day ; ” and Fea gulped down a sob. “ But, 
indeed, uncle, I am hoping things won’t be so 
bad when the new cook understands our ways 
better.” 

Mr. Keith laid a kindly hand on her shoul- 
der. 

“ Don’t misunderstand me, my little niece. 
I was not thinking of luncheons in any shape 
or form — good, bad or indifferent. Rather was 
I thinking of the amount of care and thought 
you had taken upon yourself in a moment of 
unwise decision.” 

Oh ! no, not unwise. It was a respon- 
sibility, I know,” said Fea, in a tone of eager- 
ness. “ But I wished to do some good in the 
world, and this thought came to me just at 
the time when I most wanted to accomplish 
something great.” 

The artist’s eyes wandered tenderly over the 
girl’s flushed young face. He saw there the 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


*58 

striving after something noble, something 
good ; but his young niece had got hold of the 
wrong end of her work and it was all in a 
tangle. And the tangle, he saw, would not 
come straight unless she took it boldly in hand 
herself, and examined it closely with eyes that 
sought the reason for the confusion. 

‘‘ A laudable ambition,” he said softly ; “ and 
George Herbert tells us that it is right to aim 
high. But, at the same time ” — meditatively — 
“ he suggests that our behavior should be 
very humble to enable us to accomplish that 
high ambition upon which we have set our 
hearts. He says : — 

“ ‘ Pitch thy behavior low, thy projects high, 

So shall thou humble and magnanimous be ; 

Sink not in spirit ; who aimeth at the sky, 

Shoots higher much than he that means a tree. ’ 


“ Still, had I had the advising of my little 
niece’s ‘ high projects,’ ” — laying his hand ten- 
derly on Fea’s head — “ I would have suggested 
a humbler beginning than the undertaking of 
a big household and a pack of light-hearted 
boys and girls. Why didn’t you attempt some- 
thing smaller as a preparation for yourself 
before trying to grapple with this large respon- 
sibility ? It was too great a thing to attempt 
as a first trial. Great things terrify us when 
we are unused to them. We cannot grapple 
with them. They loom up like mountains 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


^59 


round us ; they encircle us, and we cannot 
always deal with them as we like. It is the 
little things that go to strengthen and fortify 
us for the battle of great things which must 
perforce come to us as the years fleet by. 
And it should have been the little things that 
you ought to have tackled first, Fea, when you 
had that feeling of nobleness rise within you 
of trying to do some good in this world of 
ours." 

“What sort of little things?" asked Fea in 
a low voice. 

“ The helping the household generally. Not 
asserting authority, but showing the gentle 
wisdom of the elder daughter and sister by 
kindly sympathy, kindly endeavor to help the 
wheels of life to move smoothly on, to avoid 
bickerings, to enter into the pleasures of those 
around you with genuine sympathy. In one 
word — to help along the path of life — and a 
rough and stony path it is — all those who are 
striving to walk straight, and are yet stumbling 
at every step. These are the sorts of little 
things, and it is better for us to take them one 
at a time as they come facing us ; for we can 
then learn to handle them easily if we meet 
them earnestly, and in the right spirit. 

‘ One by one thy duties wait thee, 
lyet thy whole strength go to each ; 

I^t no future dreams elate thee, 

Learn thou first what these can teach.’ 


i6o FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

Nothing is a surer preparation for us, if we wish 
to confront and master the big things of life 
when they rise up to meet us as time goes on. 
Your mother found this so, I know.” 

“ Mother ! oh 1 mother was an angel,” burst 
out Fea. 

Ah ! it was as well that Fea could respond 
with such a burst as that. It had been long 
in coming, but it had come at last, and it spoke 
volumes for Fea’s heart that she could with 
fervor acknowledge her mother’s superiority 
over herself. 

“ Mother was an angel of sweetness,” con- 
tinued Fea — “ an angel of loveliness, and an 
angel for all things good. That cannot be said 
of me — or of any of us — our tempers undo us. 
Roy’s temper is hideous, Kathie’s ” 

“ Well leave the others alone. Let us just 
take one at a time and study that one. Let it 
be you that we study, Feadora, shall it ?” 

“ If — if you like ; ” Feadora’s voice was a 
little husky. 

“ Well, then, you say your temper is not 
what your mother’s was. Dd you mean as you 
knew her, or as I knew her— in childhood, in 
girlhood, and then in married life ?•” 

“ As I knew her, of course,” said Fea, open- 
ing her eyes wide. 

“ And you knew her to have the sweetest 
temper imaginable ? ” 

“ I never saw my mother in a temper. I have 


UNCLE STANLEY. i6i 

seen her angry—justly angry— but I have never 
seen her lose her temper, or be in a passion — 
as — as we ourselves are, at times.'’ 

“And I have known her as a girl, quick, 
sharp-tempered, and many a time have I seen 
her in, what you call, a passion. But, Feadora, 
she knew what control meant, and she studied 
it with prayer from the moment she rose in 
the morning to the last thing at night. She 
held firm hold upon herself ; she would never 
let herself give way. She had seen much un- 
happiness in her own home through the out- 
breaks of furious temper for her to give rein 
too lightly to her own. And, as she whispered 
to me one day when we were boy and girl m 
our teens, she felt she had inherited that un- 
controllable temper which had wrought such 
misery in our own home. We had reason to 
dread a temper which was never kept in check.” 
Uncle Stanley’s eyes looked far away and be- 
yond the garden gate, and then they sought 
the blue heavens and remained there. 

“ Whose was it ? ” Fea whispered at length. 
Mr. Keith’s eyes came down and rested ques- 
tioningly upon her. 

“ Whose was it ? ” he said. 

“ Who owned this dreadful temper in your 
home ? ” 

“ My mother.” 

Fea’s eyes rested upon him in silent sym- 
pathy, and Mr. Keith roused himself to say— 


i 62 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


** She had been a beauty and a very spoilt 
one. She was beautiful as I remember her — 
a tall, stately woman, much spoilt by her grand- 
parents who had brought her up ; and in her 
married life she was refused nothing by my 
father, who loved her in spite of the misery 
she brought into his home. Your mother and 
I and your Aunt Cicely were three frightened 
children in awe of her voice and of her step, 
and when, as we grew older, your mother felt 
that she had inherited that violent temper 
which seemed to stop at nothing, she put a 
curb upon herself — such a curb that only I and 
your Aunt Cicely, who knew her then and in 
after life, recognized what a restraint it must 
have been.” 

“ Uncle Stanley — my temper — is — awful. 

Have I inherited my grandmother’s nature ? ” 

The artist laid his hands on both her shoulders, 
and looked deep down into her eyes. 

“ You have inherited her figure, and a portion 
of her good looks — and, Feadora, will you for- 
give me for saying so ? — ^you have also got a 
goodly portion of the temper.” 

Fea's hands went to her face, and the hot 
tears trickled through her fingers. 

“ If I had loved you less, I would not have 
told you that story of your mother. My little 
niece, your temper to-day reminded me much 
of what my mother’s was, and I felt startled 
to think what misery may be in store for other 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


163 

^households, for the mere want of such control 
•IS your dear mother considered she was in 
need of.” 

“ Did you see me strike Roy ? ” The words 
were whispered in a broken-hearted tone. 

I did. I also saw and heard the provo- 
cation. But, Fea, your mother had greater 
provocation to meet with than a schoolboy’s 
mere chaff. She had to meet with fierce 
tempers— tempers even worse than her own — 
and with God’s help she quelled hers down 
bit by bit, step by step, until you only knew 
her for what she became in time — the sweetest, 
loveliest woman in heart and soul that either 
husband, children, or friends could rejoice 
in.” 

“ Uncle Stanley.” 

It was Gyneth’s voice, and as she came 
hastily in Fea left the schoolroom with a hur- 
ried step to hide her tell-tale eyes. 

“Well?” 

“Uncle Stanley, did you bring any of your 
mythological books with you this time ? ” 

“ I brought the lot of them, Gyneth, and I 
really do not see why I should ever carry them 
away again. You seem to derive more pleas- 
ure from them than I do now, so I think I 
cannot do better than hand them over to you 
for good.” 

“ Oh 1 uncle, do you really mean it ? ” and 
Gyneth’s eyes sparkled. 


164 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ I do,” he returned, smiling. “ What is it 
you want to hunt up now ? ” 

“We have to write an essay at school on 
certain mythological characters, and I wanted 
to have a reference book.” 

“ You can have them gladly. But, Gyneth,” 
drawing her to him as she was about to leave 
the room, “ although it is very good and proper 
for you to prosecute these studies in the earn- 
est manner that you do, still, remember, my 
dear child, that it is even more womanly to 
give an occasional thought to your dress. I 
have been wondering,” touching her skirt as 
he spoke, “ when this rent is going to be re- 
paired, and when,” touching the front of her 
bodice “ these buttons are to be replaced.” 

Gyneth flushed crimson, then hung her 
head. “ Virginie said she was going to mend 
it for me, but I suppose she hasn’t had time.” 

“ I should think you are old enough to do 
such things for yourself. Why trouble Vir- 
ginie, with her multifarious duties ever on 
hand?” 

“ I hate sewing,” she murmured. 

“ It is not always wholesome for us only to 
do the things that we like. Disagreeable 
things have to be accomplished in this life, 
Gyneth, and the earlier we accustom our- 
selves to do them the better for us, as time 
only will show. And, Gynny dear, as I am on 
this topic, don’t think me a very trying uncle 


UNCLE STANLEY. 


165 

when I say that your room is not quite what 
the bedroom of a young lady ought to be. The 
door was wide open as I passed this afternoon, 
and the heterogeneous articles of dress which 
were in every corner of, the room does not 
bespeak the tidy mind. The brain is tidy 
enough,” passing his hand tenderly over the 
bent head, “ with its stores of dates — historical, 
scriptural, and mythological — all neatly ar- 
ranged, ready to be drawn out at a moment’s 
notice. And other points of information are 
all tidily tucked away for future use ; but our 
Saviour expects tidiness in all things pertain- 
ing to his life. He Himself gave us such a 
lesson on the day that He rose.” 

Gyneth’s head was still bent, but she raised 
her inquiring eyes, and Mr. Keith, with a half 
smile, continued — 

“ When Peter and John arrived at the sepul- 
chre and went in, how did they find the grave 
clothes lying ? All in a muddled heap, as if 
thrown off carelessly ? Or was one article to be 
found at the head, and the rest scattered about 
at the foot ? No, they were all folded neatly 
and put together in one place. If our Christ 
had not been tidy would He have taken such 
care of those grave clothes ? Isn’t the knowl- 
edge left to us as a lesson for neatness if only 
we will look at it in the light that our Saviour 
would wish us to do ? ” 

“ I never thought of it in that way,*' said 


i66 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Gyneth, raising her head with a look of inter- 
est on her face. “ And, of course, I have read 
that chapter scores of times.” 

Mr. Keith smiled. “ Don’t let it slip your 
memory, then. Bear it in mind and it will 
help you considerably. Now you’d like me to 
get out those books for you. Will you come 
up for them ? ” 

Gyneth smiled shyly back at him. “ I think 
ril go and mend my dress first.” 

“ It mustn’t be cobbled, mind,” returned 
Uncle Stanley. “ Neatness in all things.” 

“ I’ll show it to you when it’s done,” an- 
swered Gyneth with a shy laugh. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE LADY IN BLACK AGAIN. 

“ Who knows, when he to go from home 
Departeth from his door, 

Or when, or how, he back shall come 
Or whether never more ? ” 

George Withers, 

Meantime, what of the thistle gatherers ? 

It was a glorious Saturday afternoon. 
Nannie had kept step all the way with Kathie, 
a thing she rarely did, for Kathie was given to 
walking tremendously. She panted now and 
again when the hill was steep, and would have 
given anything to pick the stray primroses 
which peeped so temptingly out of the hedges. 
But Kathie wouldn’t stop. She never did 
when work was on hand, and this day an un- 
usual supply of thistles was needed. During 
the week she had purchased another rabbit, 
and extra food had to be provided. 

Her brain was busy, too, counting up how 
much pocket-money she would have left after 
she had bought that week’s seed for her 
canaries. 

“ Only threepence left,” she murmured. 

“ Eh ? What did you say ?” said Nannie, 
167 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


1 68 

struggling up after having slipped behind a 
few steps. 

“ What’s the matter with you ?” questioned 
Kathie, looking round at her. “Your face is 
as red as fire.” 

“You walk so fast,” panted Nannie. 

“ Oh ! is that it,” laughed Kathie. “ Why 
on earth didn’t you say so before ? Doesn’t 
matter, we are here now. We must look 
sharp about the thistles. Nan, for I’d like to 
run into the town and get some canary seed 
when we get home, and Virginie told me 
dinner would be half-an-hour earlier to-day, 
as father particularly wished it.” 

“ But if the sick lady’s there you’ll go and 
hear her secret ? ” said Nannie half tearfully. 

“ Ho, ho ! sets the wind in that quarter ! ” 
laughed Kathie. “ Truth to tell. Nan, I’d for- 
gotten all about her to-day ; my head has been 
running so much on making my pocket-money 
spin out.” 

“Haven’t you got enough?” questioned 
Nannie, as they climbed the stile into the 
orchard. “ If you like Fll give you four- 
pence. I have sixpence left of my last week’s 
money.” 

“ You poor little thing,” returned Kathie, 
with something of her old merry laugh ; 
“ d’you think Td rob you of your fourpence 
just because you want me to go into the garden 
and hear the secret ? No, Fm not quite so 


THE LADY IN BLACK AGAIN. 169 

mean as that. I promise to go there, if she 
asks us again. But not for long, Nan. I tell 
you I won’t stay there many minutes, for I 
can’t help feeling sure that father wouldn’t 
like it. If we do go in I shall tell him as soon 
as we get back.” 

And then, feeling she had righted herself in 
her own eyes, Kathie set to work with a will. 

Not so Nannie. She was all on tension, 
peeping first one way and then another to see 
for any sign of the lady in black walking in 
the garden. And just when she had given her 
up, and had set to work with a disappointed 
heart, a voice said on the other side of the 
hedge — 

“ Are you there again ? ” 

Nannie stepped boldly on to the hedge and 
looked over. The sick lady was evidently well 
enough to walk in the garden as usual. Nannie 
put it down to her father’s good doctoring. 

“ Do you want us ? ” she asked. 

“ Yes,” said the lady in a half vexed, half 
plaintive voice ; “ you said you would come 
into the garden and hear my secret. Why 
don’t you ? Oh ! I wish you would. I am so 
cruelly treated.” 

“We shall come,” said Nannie excitedly. 
“ Kathie,” she called. “ Come, she’s wanting 
us to go in.” 

Kathie dropped basket and knife, and ran 
across the field to Nannie’s side. She looked 


170 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


over the hedge. The lady in black kissed her 
hand to her. 

“ Won’t you come ? ” she questioned, with 
such a charming air that Kathie succumbed 
without another effort. 

“ We haven’t much time to spare,” she said, 
“for we haven’t gathered half enough thistles 
yet. But I suppose you won’t keep us long.” 

“ No, no ! ” said the lady, with a pleased 
air. “ But you can’t get through the gate ; it 
is locked. Can you scramble through the 
hedge ? ” 

“Do they lock the gate so that you can’t get 
out ?” asked Nannie. “What a cruel shame ! ” 

“ Oh ! they treat me wickedly ! ” said the 
lady. 

“ 1 could get through the hedge,” said 
Kathie. But I’m afraid Nannie couldn’t.” 

“Yes, I could,” answered Nannie. “ I’ll do 
it, Kathie. Oh ! please make haste.” 

So Kathie made a bold plunge, and, having 
secured an opening for Nannie, jumped into 
the garden below. Then she turned to help 
her sister. Both girls were in a trice standing 
beside the strange lady. 

She looked cautiously round the garden. 
Then stood in a listening attitude with her 
head bent. 

“ Fm afraid of being overheard,” she whis- 
pered. “ You do not know how they keep a 
watch upon me. She has gone out this after- 


THE LADY IN BLACK AGAIN. 


171 

noon. She often does on a Saturday. You 
must follow me to my room, and I ,can explain 
all there quietly.’' 

She set off as she spoke in the direction of 
the thatched house. 

Kathie stood irresolute, a frown puckering 
her forehead. But Nannie pulled her along, 
whispering, “ Don’t be unkind, Kathie.” And 
Kathie gave in. 

The lady entered the house with a brisk 
step. Far brisker, Kathie thought, than the 
way she walked in the garden. She crossed 
the daintily-furnished hall ; then stood at the 
end of the stairs. She looked round at the two 
girls, and her smile was very engaging as she 
beckoned them to follow her. 

Kathie felt herself doing so almost as wil- 
lingly as Nannie, for the smile had won her 
over. 

The lady came to a standstill at a room at 
the furthest end of the landing. Then threw 
the door open. 

Nannie entered first with a half exultant, 
wholly excited air. What a thing they would 
have to tell the others at home ! What an ad- 
venture to happen on a dull thistling afternoon ! 
Nannie walked on air. 

Kathie followed her, but her heart was not 
so light. Conscience told her she was doing 
something that her father would not approve 
of. She knew his dislike to their talking to 


172 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


strangers, and here she had brought Nannie 
into the house of some one they knew abso- 
lutely nothing about. That thought alone was 
enough to make Kathie’s face look grave. 

It looked graver still and grew rather white, 
as, on turning to face the stranger lady, she 
saw her dragging heavy pieces of furniture 
across the room, and piling them one after an- 
other against the closed door. 

Kathie was no coward. She stood for one 
instant utterly perplexed. And then a strange 
fear took possession of her. She sprang across 
the room and stood confronting the sick lady, 
who certainly looked anything but sick just 
then, as she displayed such extraordinary 
energy. 

“ I think,” said Kathie, “ you had better let 
my sister and me out if you have nothing to 
tell us.” 

The lady laughed. A wild maniacal laugh 
which thrilled every nerve of Kathie’s body, 
and sent Nannie shuddering and crouching 
into the furthest corner of the room. 

And then, without paying any further atten- 
tion to the girls, she continued piling up pieces 
of furniture against the door. 

“Oh ! Kathie, Kathie, what does she mean ?” 
cried Nannie, almost beside herself with fright. 

“ I don’t know,” replied Kathie, trying to 
suppress all appearance of fear. “ I— I— think 
she’s mad, Nannie.” 



“And tlien, without paying any further attention to the girls, she continued 
idling up pieces of furniture against the door.” 

(See page 172) 







THE^LADY IN BLACK AGAIN. 


173 


“ Mad ! Locked up with a madwoman ! 
Oh ! Kathie, can’t you call out ? Shout, do ! 
Some one will hear you.” 

And Kathie, taking the advice, gave a shout 
of “ Help ! help ! ” at the top of her strong 
young lungs. 

But the mad lady — for mad she indeed was 
—stopped in her efforts to barricade the door, 
and, at Kathie’s cry, sprang towards her with a 
menacing gesture, whirling a chair above her 
head. 

Nannie shrank back with a feeble cry, but 
Kathie stood up bristling. 

“ Two can play at that game ! ” she ex- 
claimed hoarsely, seizing hold of another chair 
and waving it in her strong hands, “ Dare to 
come near us, you deceitful creature, and I’ll 
brain you with it ! ” And at the same time she 
sent forth another shout — this time louder and 
more piercing than before — “ Help ! help ! 
help!" 

The madwoman’s face became distorted with 
passion. Nannie, trembling in her corner, 
wondered that she had ever thought her sweet 
or charming. “ You’ll never get out of this,” 
she snarled fiercely, as with feverish energy 
she again began to drag the furniture about. 

Kathie looked hastily round the room. The 
fire-irons were in the fender. With a dart she 
seized them in both hands, and fled back to 
her place near the window. She pushed the 


174 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


chair she had previously held towards Nannie. 
“ Take that, Nan, and defend yourself if she 
comes near.” 

“ I can’t— I can’t. Oh ! Kathie, I think I’ll 
die.” 

“ No, you won’t — not until I die first,” re- 
plied Kathie stoutly, but with, oh ! such a sink- 
ing heart. When that mad creature had fin- 
ished her barricading would she turn round 
and kill them ? “ Sit on the chair then, Nan. 

It will be one less for her to whirl about. I’ll 
keep guard over you. She won’t come within 
a yard of you, if I can help it. Sit on the chair 
and look out of the window. See, it’s got bars 
of iron across so we couldn’t get put if we 
wished to. Sit with your handkerchief in 
your hand and wave it between the bars. It 
may attract attention.” 

“ But whose attention ? ” sobbed Nannie. 

“ No one can see the house from the road.” 

Of course not. Kathie hadn’t thought of 
that. 

“ Doesn’t matter,” she said. ** We must take 
every chance we have got of being seen. If 
any one came into the orchard and looked in 
this direction they could see you. Oh ! that 
we had never left it ! ” Kathie groaned aloud. 

“ It was my doing — all my doing,” said Nan- 
nie, trembling more and more. “ If I hadn’t 
persuaded you ! ” 

“I should have known better,” muttered 


THE LADY IN BLACK AGAIN. 


175 


Kathie. “ Keep a watch outside, Nannie, and 
wave your handkerchief as often as you can. 
I must keep my eyes on her, in case she tries 
to do us a mischief.'' 

All the time the two girls had whispered to- 
gether, the madwoman had kept up a contin- 
ual muttering and restless carrying of the mov- 
able pieces of furniture. She now turned her 
attention to Kathie. And Kathie looked at her 
with a resolute face, but with limbs that trem- 
bled beneath her. She looked curiously like 
Wulfric, thought Nannie looking up at her, 
and a feeling of admiration for Kathie stirred 
her heart. 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! " laughed the mad lady in a 
fierce discordant voice. 

Where had her sweet plaintive notes van- 
ished ? wondered Nannie. 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! " echoed Kathie at the top of 
her voice. “ Ha, ha, ha ! " The last “ Ha ! " 
ending in a sort of shout. 

“ No one can hear you," said the mad lady 
in a tone of triumph. “ She*s out. No one's in 
the house. Only I am here, and I'll keep you 
here." 

“ If no one's in the house then there's no 
objection to my shouting," replied Kathie. 

If I choose to laugh or shout it’s all the same 
to you, I suppose. Ha, ha, ha ! Help ! 
He-lp!" 

Before the words were fairly out of Kathie's 


176 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


mouth the madwoman had rushed at her, and 
Kathie stepped back with the fire-irons raised 
threateningly. 

“ Take care ! ” she shouted. “ I don’t care 
if I do you an injury, You keep your distance, 
and 111 keep mine. But if you don’t ” 

The mad creature flung herself upon her, 
grappling Kathie and the fire-irons in one rush. 
The two of them rolled to the floor with the 
woman on top. 

Nannie shrieked at the top of her voice — 
shriek upon shriek. It was answered by a loud 
thumping on the door of the room in which 
they were. 

“ Thump ! thump ! thump ! ” 

And a voice at the same time shouted : 
“ Who’s in here ? ” 

“ Kathie and I,” shrieked Nannie. “ And 
she’s killing Kathie. Oh ! come, come, and 
help ! ” 

The door handle was twisted and turned vio- 
lently. 

“ Can’t you unlock the door ? ” screamed the 
voice outside. 

“ No, she’s piled all the furniture against it,” 
sobbed Nannie. Oh ! she’s killing Kathie !” 

There was a rush of retreating feet. And 
then silence, save for the struggling between 
Kathie and the madwoman. 

From her corner by the window Nannie 
looked on helpless with fear, and, to her sick- 


THE LADY IN BLACK AGAIN. 177 

ening horror, she saw Kathie suddenly lie an 
inert heap upon the floor, while the madwoman 
crouched gloatingly beside her with eyes that 
gleamed with triumph. 

Would she turn her attention now to Nan- 
nie ? The child shivered and clung silently to 
the window, unconsciously dangling the white 
handkerchief through the bars as before. 

But the madwoman’s eyes never turned in 
her direction. She seemed satisfied with her 
one victim, and hung over her with muttered 
words of joy. 

Was Kathie dead ? Had she killed her ? 
Nannie hardly dared put to herself the ques- 
tion. If Kathie were killed 

A shout from outside made her turn her head 
tremblingly. In the orchard were two boys, 
waving their hands frantically. And running 
alongside the laurel hedge bounding the gar- 
den from the orchard was a woman. She 
paused at the opening which Kathie and Nan- 
nie had made in the hedge, and Nannie saw 
the boys run at her repeated beckonings. 

The child recognized with a sense of relief 
which amounted almost to pain, that the boys 
were Roy and Jack Boyd. She looked at 
Kathie. She still lay in that same position. 
And the madwoman sat beside her gibbering 
and muttering to herself. Had help come 
when it was too late ? 

And then the queer feeling of half relief, 


178 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


half pain, seemed suddenly to die right away, 
and Nannie, with her hand still hanging 
limply outside the window with the white 
signal flying in the breeze, fainted straight 
away. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

CARES. 

To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares ; 

To eat thy hearte through comfortlesse despaires.” 

Spenser. 

“ It is astonishing that just the one evening 
I desire to have an earlier dinner than usual, 
half of the children should absent themselves. 
How is it, Feadora ?” 

Fea looked up with a flush upon her cheek, 
and paused before speaking, whilst she watched 
her father standing at the head of the dinner 
table, sharpening the carving knife with energy. 

“ I don't know how it is,” she answered at 
length, speaking slowly. “ I heard Virginie 
warning Kathie especially before she started, 
and Roy, too, knew of your wishes. Gyneth 
was obliged to go to Cousin Felicia’s. She 
sent for her.” 

“ And so our numbers for the Saturday din- 
ner have dwindled down to four — Uncle Stan- 
ley included,” sighed Dr. Oakley. “ I never 
remember such a case before, Feadora.” 

“Fea cannot mount guard over the whole 

of us when on duty and off duty,” replied 
179 


i8o FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

Wulfric pleasantly. “ It would be too onerous 
a task surely. And the youngsters like to seek 
out pleasures for themselves, dad, you know. 
It is only natural that they should.” 

“ Their greatest pleasure used to be this 
Saturday dinner and the happy hours which 
followed it,” returned his father; “but they 
evidently think less pleasurably of it now than 
formerly.” 

There was no reply to this, and there was 
silence for a minute until the doctor’s next 
words caused Fea’s heart to sink like lead. 

“ Feadora, my dear, this beef is thoroughly 
overdone — utterly scrapped, in fact.” Dr. 
Oakley’s brows were drawn together ominously. 

Feadora’s face fell. “ Is it, father ? ” she 
said faintly. 

“ I am afraid, Stanley, there is not much 
nourishment in the meat again to-day. I must 
advise you to eat sparingly of it. I only trust 
we shall not quite starve you at this rate,” the 
doctor spoke tersely. 

Mr. Keith smiled good-humoredly. “ Don’t 
worry, please, about me, Arnold, or I shall 
think you are treating me too much in the form 
of a guest.” 

He helped himself silently to the vegetables 
which the new housemaid was holding at his 
elbow, but as he did so a grave look took the 
place of the good-natured smile. ^Wulfric saw 
it, and glanced hastily at Fea. The latter was 


CARES. i8i 

looking nervously at the unwholesome-looking 
potatoes and hard-looking cabbage which her 
uncle was putting upon his plate. 

“ Uncle Stanley/’ she began timidly, “ I — 
I— don’t think those vegetables look quite 
done.” 

Eh ?— what ? ” said the doctor, looking up 
with a disgusted face from his task at the top 
of the table. “ Vegetables not cooked— meat 
like a cinder. My dear Feadora, what is the 
meaning of it ? ” He dived the carving fork 
into a potato. “ Hard as a cannon ball ! ” he 
announced. “ What of the cabbage ? Uneat- 
able,” attempting in vain to serve a bit from the 
main portion in the dish. “ My dear, what 
sort of a cook have you in the kitchen ? She 
doesn’t know her duties, evidently.” 

Feadora’s face had a pained flush upon it. 
She said nothing. And the doctor went on, 
heedless of the presence of the newly-installed 
housemaid — 

“ On whose recommendation have you taken 
this cook ? Cousin Felicia’s?” 

“Oh! no!” Feadora’s voice was sharp. 
“ She had nothing whatever to do with her.” 

“ I should suppose not.” The doctor’s tone 
was dry. “ She would never have chosen a 
cook that could send up such a meal as this. 
What else is in the house, Feadora ? Any of 
that cold meat left ? Don’t touch those vege- 
tables, Stanley ; they’ll harm you.” 


l82 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Feadora forced back the rising tears. 

“ There are some hot rissoles with tomato 
sauce — and — and the cold meat.” 

“Rissoles? Of this new cook’s making?” 

Feadora inclined her head. Words were 
not easy just then. 

Dr. Oakley shook his head. “ I should not 
like to attempt them. I give the preference to 
the cold meat, as Jane had the cooking of it 
before she went.” 

Feadora gave the order for it to be brought 
in, in a stiff, measured voice. And whilst the 
housemaid was out of the room the doctor 
said slowly— 

“ It passes my comprehension why you ever 
let Jane leave her situation. I never knew 
why she went. But I daresay you must have 
had some good reason for getting a fresh cook 
in her place. I only wish, my dear, that you 
could have got some one more worthy to re- 
place her.” 

And then the cold meat came in, and whilst 
the doctor set to work vigorously upon it. 
Uncle Stanley and Wulfric made praiseworthy 
efforts to keep up a brisk conversation away 
from disagreeable subjects. But a gloom had 
settled upon Feadora’s face, and she could 
with difficulty make response to what was being 
said. 

The doctor had only just taken a few hasty 
mouthfuls when the dining-room door was flung 


CARES. 183 

violently open, and Roy, pale, panting, and 
wild-looking, presented himself. 

“ Father,” he gasped, “ you must go at once 
— to the house called * The Maze.’ A woman 
named Burchell told me to call you — she said to 
say that Adrienne has got some people locked 
in — her room— and is nearly killing them.” 

; Before the boy had half gasped out his words, 
the doctor had risen, and simultaneously with 
him rose Mr. Keith and Wulfric. 

“ Dad, ril go and help John to get the dog- 
cart out. Ill go with you.” And Wulf was out 
of the room before the words were well said. 

The doctor was in the hall pulling on his 
overcoat. He turned abruptly to his brother- 
in-law. “ Youll come too, Stanley? ” 

“ 111 come too.” Mr. Keith bounded up the 
stairs to his room, three steps at a time. 

“ Can I go back with you, father ? ” asked 
Roy, who had grown more excited at seeing the 
consternation his announcement had produced. 

“ No, there will not be room for you, my boy. 
Did Burchell tell you who was with — who was 
in the room ? ” 

“ No, she didn’t.” Roy hesitated, and then 
looked anxiously up at his father. “ But — I 
think— at least, Boyd and I saw a girl up there. 
It was Nannie.” 

Nannie ! ” Dr. Oakley’s voice had risen 
to a shout. 

“ I think so. Yes, I am sure so. And I 


1^4 ^ FEADORA’S FAILURE. 

think Kathie must have been in the room, for 
the woman said that this — Adrienne — was fight- 
ing with some one, and I think it must have 
been Kathie, for ” 

“ Then God preserve her.” Dr. Oakley’s 
arms dropped to his sides with a gesture of 
despair. 

Then, turning suddenly, he faced his eldest 
daughter. There was a look on his face — a 
look that pierced her through and through. 

“ I trusted you to look after your young 
sisters. This would never have happened had 
their mother lived.” 

The voice was hard and measured, and Fea- 
dora shrank instinctively from its tone. She 
had never heard anything like it from him 
before. 

Wulfric sprang in just then to say the dog- 
cart was at the door, and at the same time 
Uncle Stanley appeared in the hall. And the 
three were in the dog-cart, dashing furiously 
down the road. 

Feadora with white face and staring eyes 
stood gazing through the open hall door long 
after the carriage had passed out of sight. 
Then, turning with a quick catch in her breath, 
she met Roy’s eyes upon her. 

“ I — I — don’t understand what it is all 
about ? ” she faltered. 

“ No more do I,” returned Roy. “ All I 
know is that, whilst I was in Tyler’s orchard 


CARES. 


with Jack Boyd, we heard some awful scream- 
ing going on in the thatched house called ‘ The 
Maze ’ ” 

“ I don’t know it,” interrupted Fea hoarsely. 

“ Perhaps not. It stands far back off the 
road and has a high paling all around it, and 
the garden is shut in by a big wooden gate. 
It is only from the orchard that one can see it 
at all.” 

“ Go on, go on,” breathed Feadora. “ What 
about it all ? ” 

Well, we heard this awful screaming, and 
we looked up, and Boyd said that there must 
be a frightful row going on there. Then we 
suddenly heard the words, ‘ Help ! help ! 
help ! ” And through the window we saw a 
girl hanging out a white handkerchief. It 
wasn’t her voice that was calling, but Boyd 
swore it was Nannie. I wouldn’t believe it at 
first, for what could Nannie be doing up there ; 
but when I came nearer to the hedge I saw 
that it was she ” 

“How did Nannie get there?” questioned 
Fea in the same hoarse voice. 

“ The deuce only knows. I don’t. Then, a 
woman rushed like mad down the garden and 
saw us looking over the hedge. * Aren’t you 
Dr. Oakley’s son ? ’ she asked. I said I was. 
‘ Then go for your life to the doctor, and say 
that Burchell calls him to “ The Maze ” at 
once. Tell him that Adrienne has got some 


i86 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


people locked in her room, and Burchell fears 
mischief is being done.’ Those are her exact 
words, as far as I can remember them. So I 
just tore here as fast as I could pelt, and left 
Boyd, who said he would go with the woman 
to see if he could be of any assistance.” 

“ Who is Adrienne ? ” asked Feadora 
faintly. 

Roy shook his head. “ I don’t know for 
the life of me. Some dangerous lunatic I 
should think from the way those screams rang 
out ” 

“ Oh ! Roy, Roy, don’t,” cried Feadora, 
putting her hands up to her ears. “ Remember 

whose voice Oh ! you said Kathie was 

there as well as Nannie.” 

Roy’s face paled. He drew his breath hard. 
Kathie ! at the mercy of a lunatic ! And what 
had he been doing that Saturday afternoon not 
to be at her side in the thistling orchard, guard- 
ing and defending her from danger ? If it had 
not been for Boyd’s persistence he would not 
have been there at all, and what could the 
woman Burchell have done had no one been 
within reach of her call to run for the doctor ? 

He shuddered. Then tried to shake off the 
feeling of terror that possessed him. He 
stepped a little closer to Feadora. 

“ I don’t know — but it sounded like Kathie’s 
voice — good old Kathie ! ” the boy’s voice 
broke down for an instant. Then went on : 


CARES. 187 

“ It was like her voice, only very loud and very 
shrill, as if she were in great distress.” 

Feadora burst into tears, and turned blindly 
away from the hall door. It was so terrible to 
be in this suspense. And they could not do 
anything until Dr. Oakley returned. 

I^oy put his arm about her. “ Don’t, Fea, 
don’t.” The old name slipped out unthink- 
ingly, but it sounded sweet in the elder sister’s 
ears. “ The pater will manage everything 
right, you’ll see. And he’s got Uncle Stanley 
and Wulfric to back him.” 

“ But supposing they get there too late,” 
sobbed Feadora. 

Roy bit his lips and an ashen hue crept 
into his face. 

“ And oh ! Roy, father thinks it is my 
fault. He thinks I haven’t looked after the 
girls enough. I saw it in his face.” 

She tried to break away from the arm 
thrown round her in all affection, but Roy 
would not permit of it. In the midst of his 
anxiety his sympathy for Fea’s distress was 
great. With every art of boyish affection he 
tried to allay her grief. The effort was new, 
but the feeling was not unpleasant. 

All remembrance of the angry words spoken 
that very afternoon, and the hasty blow, re- 
pented of as soon as struck, was forgotten in 
the midst of greater trouble, till suddenly 
Feadora looked up with tear-dimmed eyes. 


i88 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ Forgive me, Roy,” she whispered. “ I 
think I was mad with anger.” 

And Roy fully comprehended. For he 
kissed the face that was on a level with his, 
murmuring with a boy's apology : “ I was a 
beast, and did my best to rile you. Let us 
cry quits, old girl. Fm awfully sorry.” 

And then suddenly in burst Gyneth, just 
returned from Cousin Felicia’s. And at the 
same moment Virginie made her appearance, 
begging to know what was the strange story 
that the new housemaid had been pouring into 
her ears about Master Roy’s hasty return and 
the rapid driving away of the dog-cart. 

Somehow, to Fea’s shrinking mind, she 
fancied she saw accusation written in each 
one’s face as Virginie held up her hands in 
grief, and Gyneth paled and shook with terror. 
But the memory of her father’s face was the 
worst. Its expression haunted her. Coming 
as the evil news had upon the mismanagement 
of everything that day his face told her what 
his own thoughts were. 

She had failed ! In her father’s estimation 
this awful thing would not have happened had 
she kept a kinder, more sympathetic watch 
over her sisters. Was this one of the little 
things she had allowed to slip by her unno- 
ticed, whilst striving to fill a higher post for 
which she was not fitted ? 

She tried to rouse herself. “ Virginie,” she 


CARES. 


189 

said ; and it was the first appeal she had yet 
made to the good common-sense which she 
had been told to rely upon as a safeguard 
against pitfalls ; “ you know best what ought 
to be got ready against their arrival. I am 
ignorant. I don’t know what to do,” wringing 
her hands. “ Oh ! help me.” 

“ I will. Leave it to me, my lamb.” The 
kind, homely words acted as balm upon Fea’s 
aching heart. 

But Virginie’s face underwent a change as 
she left her young mistress’s presence. 

“ What can I do ? ” she muttered hoarsely. 
“ We can only wait, and pray the good Lord 
on our bended knees that all is not so bad as 
Master Roy makes out. And I can at least get 
hot baths ready in case they be needed. The 
master is a great advocate for such.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE RETURN HOME. 

“ Some who walk abroad in health, 

In sickness back are brought. ’ ’ 

George Withers. 

No words were spoken whilst the dog-cart 
was being whirled along the straight road lead- 
ing to the young Oakleys’ thistling ground. 

The doctor’s lips were set in one determined 
line ; and Wulfric, in the back seat with John, 
looked pale and anxious. Mr. Keith sat with 
folded arms beside his brother-in-law, show- 
ing by neither word nor sign what his own 
feelings were in the matter. Only as they 
dashed up to the thatched house hidden off 
by the high wooden palings described by Roy, 
did he lean forward to say emphatically : — 

“ There must be no more of this, Arnold. 
Felicia will now see the necessity of having 
Adrienne put away in a place of safety.” 

Dr. Oakley grasped the artist’s hand in a 
tight grip, and the dog-cart pulled up with a 
jerk. 

The three gentlemen sprang out, and John 
climbed into his master’s seat to await their 
return. 

Dr. Oakley headed the way. In a trice he 


THE RETURN HOME. 


191 

had ascended the staircase. On the landing 
he met an elderly woman, whose hard face 
was now lined with anxiety. Her muscular- 
looking hands were trembling. With diffi- 
culty she breathed the words : — 

“ She will not open the door. I fear to 
think what may have happened.” 

Crouched by the door, his ear placed in a 
listening attitude close to the keyhole, was 
Jack Boyd. He rose to his feet as the doctor 
advanced. 

“ I thought we could break the door open, 
but the nurse wouldn’t let me try. She said 
we must wait till you came. So I have been 
trying to speak soothing words to the girls 
inside, and have told them that Roy had gone 
for you.” 

The doctor put him aside without a word, 
and, rapping sharply upon the panels of the 
door, called out authoritatively— 

“Adrienne, are you there?” 

No answer. Only the sound of repeated 
mutterings. 

The doctor's words rang out again : “ Do 
you hear me, Adrienne ? If you are there, 
open the door at once. At once, I tell you, 
and no further delay.” 

There was a sound of heavy furniture being 
dragged away from the door. Jack Boyd had 
given place to Wulfric, who now stood beside 
his father. 


192 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ Let me enter first, dad," the schoolboy 
heard him whisper. 

But Dr. Oakley shook his head. “ She might 
injure you. She will not lay a finger on me." 

He tapped impatiently on the panels. 
“ Adrienne, no delay. I am in a hurry." 

The sound of heavy articles being moved 
still went on, and then, at length, the sullen 
sound of a key being turned slowly in the lock 
was heard. 

Dr. Oakley put his son aside and went in. 
What sight was it that made his face turn so 
white ? Kathie was lying in the middle of the 
room, bleeding from a wound in the head ; and 
Nannie sat huddled up, gazing with a wild 
stare at the tall figure of the madwoman, who 
stood with a defiant laugh upon her face. 

With a shrill scream the mad creature made 
a sudden rush towards the doctor. She had 
caught sight of other figures within the door- 
way, and her face grew distorted with passion. 

But Dr. Oakley stood erect, with one hand 
outstretched to stay her. “ Back ! " he ex- 
claimed sternly. “ Have you not done enough 
mischief without attempting more ? Back, 
Adrienne r! Into that corner ! I am ashamed 
of you ! Burchell ! " 

The elderly woman was by his side in an 
instant. She laid her hand persuasively upon 
the arm of the tall lady. “ Come with me," 
she said quietly. 


THE RETURN HOME. 


193 

And the poor creature dropped her face in 
her hands with a wild cry, and suffered herself 
to be led into an inner room. 

If the doctor’s nerve had stood him good 
service when dealing with the defiant creature, 
it entirely deserted him as he bent over the 
apparently lifeless form of Kathie. He cast a 
despairing glance at Wulfric, who came to his 
side. 

“We must get them both out of the room, 
dad. She must not come to her senses here.” 

“ You are right.” The doctor was himself 
again. 

Mr. Keith was already raising Nannie into 
his arms, and Jack ran to offer his willing as- 
sistance. Between them both they bore her 
away, and Wulfric and his father lifted Kathie. 

“Wulf ! ” The doctor’s eyes looked with 
despair again into his son’s, as she lay like a 
log on the sofa in an adjoining room. 

“ It is a prolonged faint, dad,” was the cheer- 
ful answer ; albeit the speaker felt anything 
but reassured. “ And this knock on the head 
is a nasty one. Fll bind it up and restore her 
to consciousness if you will just go and see 
what Uncle Stanley has done with Nannie.” 

The doctor did so, and was back again in a 
few minutes. 

“ Nannie is not hurt, thank God. She looks 
dazed, but is quite herself. I’ve given her 
something to drink which will settle her nerves. 
13 


194 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Your uncle is going to drive her home, 
and will return with the brougham for Kathie. 
Jack Boyd will accompany him. He seems 
very anxious to be of use.” 

For long did the father and son apply every 
remedy to bring back the girFs senses, and 
cnly when their fears were beginning to reach 
their highest did Kathie languidly open her 
eyes. With a shuddering moan she closed 
them again. But the doctor’s voice recalled 
her. 

“ My child ! my Kathie ! You are in safe 
hands.” 

Kathie’s eyes opened again with an effort. 
“Nannie ! ” she whispered faintly. 

“Nannie is safe too, and has gone home with 
Uncle Stanley.” 

Kathie’s eyes wandered past, and looked 
inquiringly round the room. It is not the 
same. They could see she had feared to find 
herself in that awful room which now was im- 
printed forever upon her memory. 

“ Where is she ? ” was the next question, 
with a look of fear in her eyes. 

“ In safe hands too,” replied the doctor 
grimly. “ And soon she will be in still safer,” 
with set teeth. 

Mr. Keith ran up to say that the brougham 
was waiting for them. So consigning Kathie 
to her uncle’s and Wulf’s care, after seeing her 
safe into the carriage, the doctor proceeded to 


THE RETURN HOME. 


195 


return to the thatched house— the very sight of 
which made shudder after shudder run through 
Kathie’s frame. 

“,^ther, take care ! '' were her whispered 
words before they started, feebly pulling the 
doctor’s face down to hers. 

“ She knows me, my child. I am the one 
person who has power to quiet her. You need 
fear no harm happening to me. Don’t send 
John back again, Wulf. I’ll walk home.” 

It was a very different return from the usual 
Saturday afternoon rambles. In a vague way 
Kathie remembered the thistles she and 
Nannie had gone out to gather that very after- 
noon. Surely years had passed instead of 
hours since last they had sallied forth with 
thistling basket and knife ! 

Kathie shivered all over. She felt that she 
would never have courage to go into that or- 
chard again. And then, suddenly hiding her 
face against Wulf’s protecting arm, she burst 
into a torrent of tears. 

And, across to Uncle Stanley, Wulfric nodded 
his utmost approval of such conduct and let 
her tears flow without restraint. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE MYSTERY SOLVED. 

“ Look in my face ; my name is Might-have-been ; 

I am also called No more, Too late, Farewell, 

Into thine ear I hold the dead sea shell.” 

Dante Rossetti. 

Cousin Felicia was at Littlefield House the 
next morning at an incredibly early hour. 
Rumors of a terrible kind had reached her 
ears concerning the danger that the doctor’s 
two youngest daughters had been in ; and the 
old lady had spent a sleepless night in conse- 
quence. She was shown into the doctor’s 
study at her own express desire, and there Dr. 
Oakley saw her. 

His first words reassured her. “ It is good 
of you to come down so early, Felicia. I was 
coming to you when my first round was over. 
The girls are getting on— a little shaken and a 
bit bewildered at the sudden onslaught made 
upon them, which is but natural. But that 
will, I hope, wear off after some time of perfect 
quiet. Then I must make my inquiries as to 
how and why they entered the house." 

“ Oh, Arnold, was Adrienne very violent?" 

Dr. Oakley looked grim. “ Couldn’t very 
well have been much more so without doing 

196 


THE MYSTERY SOLVED. 197 

actual bodily injury. Felicia, I shall not risk 
another such attack happening. It is her first 
outbreak, and Heaven knows what danger 
may be incurred in the next.” 

“ What do you intend to do ? ” asked Mrs. 
Danvers faintly. 

“ Get her placed in a private asylum,” re- 
turned the doctor firmly. “ It is where she 
should have been from the beginning. I shall 
make proper inquiries, of course, as to the sort 
of place I take her to. She will be kindly but 
firmly dealt with, and I shall make periodical 
visits to see how she is faring.” 

“ She is quiet enough with you. You seem 
to have great power over her,” Mrs. Danvers 
made answer in a low faltering voice, very 
much unlike her old imperious tone. 

“ Unfortunately I cannot always be on the 
spot. In one of my absences she will do some 
terrible harm. I may tell you, too, Felicia, 
that these outbreaks will probably grow on 
her, when perhaps, too, my influence over her 
will begin to wane. Be persuaded by us— for 
Stanley and Wulf are of my opinion— that it 
will be better in the end for poor Adrienne 
herself that she should be placed under greater 
control than I can give her. Burchell, too, is 
beginning to find her unmanageable. And 

should Adrienne get to know this ” the 

doctor paused and shrugged his shoulders 
with an expressive gesture. 


198 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ Of course I will abide by what you say/' 
returned Mrs. Danvers, wiping away a tear 
that trickled down her cheek. “ It is a bitter 
grief to me that my only sister should have 
become so terribly afflicted and— and— the 
thought of any asylum for her has been most 
abhorrent to me.” 

“ To me also,” replied Dr. Oakley. “ And 
most willingly would I have continued to un- 
dertake the charge of her at ‘ The Maze ' had 
she proved as tractable as she was when she 
first came. But now— after what has happened 

to my two girls ” The doctor shuddered. 

“ Thank God it was no worse. But how can 
I tell it will not be worse when another fit 
overtakes her. Be reasonable, Felicia. See 
the matter in its right light with your own 
true common-sense, which has never deserted 
you save in this one instance ; and that, I 
know, is owing to your deep affection for 
Adrienne.” 

“ You are right, Arnold, quite, quite right, 
and I shall not hinder you from doing what 
you think best in the matter. “ Only,” clasp- 
ing her hands and looking earnestly into his 
face, “ choose some place where my darling 
sister may be made comfortable, and as happy 
as her own afflicted mind will let her.” 

“ I will. And now you will not object to 
the children knowing who Adrienne is, and 
why she was placed at ‘ The Maze ? ' They 


THE MYSTERY SOLVED. 


199 


are very curious about it, and one can hardly 
wonder at it after what has happened.” 

Mrs. Danvers inclined her head. “ Do any- 
thing that you think fit and right. Explain 
everything to them. It is their right to under- 
stand it all now. But oh ! Arnold, don’t let 
my secret become common property outside 
of your home ! ” 

“ Need you ask that, Felicia ? I will see 
that our secret is strictly guarded. The chil- 
dren I can trust, even to little Nannie, if they 
give me their promise not to divulge it. Be- 
sides, the horror of the situation has left too 
terrible an impression for them willingly to 
refer to it outside our circle. Must you go 
now ? ” as Mrs. Danvers stood up, drawing 
down her veil to hide her tear-stained cheeks. 
“ Stanley is anxious to have a talk with you.” 

‘‘ Let him come over to me. I cannot see 
any one else just now. Let me go home, 
Arnold, as quietly as I have come. My pony 
carriage is at the door.” 

And the doctor allowed her. He accom- 
panied her to the gate, talking pleasantly and 
cheerfully of other things, and watched the 
little carriage drive off with a cheery wave of 
his hand. But Mr. Keith, watching his return 
from the dining-room window, saw the smile 
fade away, and thought within himself that 
the doctor had aged since yesterday. 

A few days later, when the two girls were 


200 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


able to bear a recurrence of the subject, Dr. 
Oakley, in the privacy of his own study, took 
them into his confidence as to who the sick 
lady in black was about whom they had 
attached so much mystery. Feadora was 
present, too, with Gyneth and Roy. 

With bated breath did they listen. The 
sick, strange lady, walking about in the garden 
of “ The Maze,” to be Cousin Felicia’s own 
sister ! It was incredible, and more like some 
tale in a story-book. They could hardly be- 
lieve it. 

“ And Cousin Felicia,” said Dr. Oakley 
softly, “ had hoped that in time I might have 
cured the poor mad brain. And for that 
reason she wished Adrienne to be brought as 
near to me as possible without attracting much 
attention. I was averse to it, but not so averse 
as I should have been had I known what 
would happen.” 

And Feadora, as she listened, remembered 
the conversation she had overheard between 
her father and uncle on the day of the latter’s 
arrival. And remembered, too, the old sense 
of pride that had crept up and swamped the 
better feeling which had urged her at the time 
to inquire, with the kindly anxiety she felt then, 
the reason for their grave looks. Oh ! how 
she wished now that she had yielded to her 
better nature and had forced her father's con- 
fidence. She knew he would have given it. 


THE MYSTERY SOLVED. 


201 


if pressed for in a kindly spirit, without undue 
curiosity. And then, with her knowledge of 
the mad lady so closely located to the children’s 
thistling ground, might she not have given 
them a timely warning ; one that would not 
have betrayed the confidence reposed in her, 
but would rather have gained a fresh confidence 
from the sisters, who might perhaps have con- 
fided in her the mystery they felt that was sur- 
rounding “ The Maze.” 

Oh, these might have beens ! How they arise 
and confront us when the time is past, making 
us wish we had done something better, some- 
thing nobler when the power of doing so lay 
within our hand ! 

And then the doctor made his first inquiry 
as to the reason of Kathie and Nannie finding 
themselves in such a dangerous position. 

With many tears, Nannie confessed herself 
to be the real offender. But Kathie, with 
stern justice, acknowledged herself to be in 
fault. 

“ I was the elder,” she stoutly declared. “ I 
knew too, father, that you didn’t like us to go 
into strange houses. But I allowed myself to 
be over persuaded. Besides, I told Nannie 
first about the sick lady and made her curiosity 
to rise. If there is to be any punishment, I 
must be the one to bear it all.” 

And Kathie squared her shoulders and looked 
steadily into her father’s face. 


202 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ I think there has been punishment enough, 
my poor girls.” The doctor’s voice was more 
tender than they had ever heard it. “ Thank 
God, no worse happened. You have borne 
enough already without my adding anything 
further. And I think I need hardly ask of you 
both — when curiosity gets the upper hand and 
you feel you want to see and to know things 
that are forbidden — to seek your father’s advice 
in the matter, seeing that you have no mother 
to go to.” He sighed as he spoke, and if the 
sigh went to Feadora’s heart no one knew. 

She had been found wanting in a good many 
things, she thought. Had she been a more 
tender elder sister this terrible escapade might 
never have happened. She knew from what 
her father had told her that the effects of that 
afternoon’s terror would leave its traces on the 
two girls for some time to come. 

“ I must beg you to be tender and gentle 
with them, Feadora,” he had said that very 
morning. “ I must watch their symptoms care- 
fully. There is a wild startled look in Kathie’s 
eyes at times which I do not like to see ; and 
Nannie— my little Nannie — has looked more 
dazed than I have cared to see. Look to it 
that you help me all you can to bring back 
their systems to their normal healthy condi- 
tion. With tender care, please God, no last- 
ing harm will arise from that awful Saturday 
afternoon’s work. But care and kind treat- 


THE MYSTERY SOLVED. 


203 


ment, with God’s help, will be the only things 
that will effect a thorough cure.’' 

And Feadora felt within herself that this 
had been sent to her as a trial of that self-con- 
trol which, since Uncle Stanley’s talk, she had 
tried so earnestly to attain to. 

She had felt very humble of herself of late. 
So many failures had followed each other in 
rapid succession that Feadora was beginning 
to feel that much of her old confidence was 
leaving her. And yet — and yet— she could not 
but own that the feeling of humility was a more 
pleasing sensation than the old pride of former 
days, when no feeling of distrust in her own 
powers had ever possessed her. 


CHAPTER XX. 

MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 

Bvery day brings its incidents ; and tho’ we know it not, 
any one of them, even the most commonplace, may be big with 
fate. IV. Westhall. 

“ In striving after a sum total, we forget the ciphers of which 
it is composed.” 

From — Counsels for the Conduct of Life. 

Roy had to take his share, too, in the tender 
treatment of the two girls, for Dr. Oakley 
strictly forbade any expedition to Tyler’s 
orchard. 

“ I will not have them go within five hundred 
yards of that house. The very sight of it 
would be enough to bring back the old terror. 
If the thistling is more than you can manage, 
Roy, sell the rabbits. You surely consider 
them of less consequence than the health of 
your sisters.” 

Thus spoke the doctor, and Roy knew better 
than to contend the point. The consumption 
of thistles was great. His father did not know 
how great, the lad considered. But he did 
not like to say so. The days were getting 
warmer, too, and though thistles were in 
abundance, the burden of gathering them was 

204 


MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


205 


not agreeable, especially since Kathie had of 
late taken upon herself the lion’s share of pro- 
curing them. 

Roy wished his father would offer to supple- 
ment his weekly allowance in view of his buy- 
ing more clover and lucerne, and thus do away 
with so much thistle gathering. But Dr. 
Oakley did nothing of the sort. His last words 
on the subject, with a nod of warning to Roy, 
were— 

“ Now, do not let me find that you have dis- 
obeyed my wishes in this matter. I look to 
you, Roy, to help me with your sisters, not to 
hinder me.” 

And Roy gave a promise which he kept 
faithfully. 

No, not one rabbit would be sold. Kathie’s 
heart would grieve, he knew, were such a 
thing done. She would have behaved like a 
brick to him had the cases been reversed. 
Then why should he not treat her in a like 
fashion ? 

Jack Boyd came to his assistance. He had 
become a constant visitor at Littlefield House, 
and Kathie’s heart was no longer jealous at 
sight of him. Her place in Roy’s affection 
would always come first ; and she had learned 
from Roy that it was owing to Boyd’s persist- 
ence that they were enabled to give the assist- 
ance they had given on that memorable after- 
noon. This Kathie could never forget, and 


2o6 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Jack’s boyish heart was gladdened by Kathie’s 
sunny smile and her good fellowship. 

Thus, together, Roy and Jack would start off 
on Saturday afternoons armed with enormous 
baskets, resolutely turning deaf ears to the 
pleadings of the two girls and the assurances 
that they were well enough to go with them. 

“ When father gives permission you may, 
but not before ; ” and adamant was softer than 
was Roy’s demeanor at those moments. 

The girls were getting better, though. 
Every day the doctor’s heart gave a secret 
throb of joy as the startled look in Kathie’s 
eyes came less often, and the dazed expression 
in Nannie’s face showed only now and then. 

It was holiday time to them, if it was not so 
to any of the others. The doctor had given 
orders that lesson books should be put sternly 
aside, and that life to the two girls for the 
present should be one of absolute enjoyment. 
Gyneth secretly pitied them. What would she 
have done if it had happened to her, and if 
she had been deprived of her beloved books ! 
She shuddered to think of the idle time she 
would thus have spent. 

But neither Kathie nor Nannie was a book- 
worm. Their delight during this unexpected 
holiday lay in cleaning out the rabbit hutches 
and spreading to dry the thistles that the 
weary gatherers brought home ; in hoarding 
their pence and going out to purchase bran 


MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


207 


and clover for those ever-consuming animals ; 
giving more zealous attention to the canaries ; 
collecting picture postcards from every possi- 
ble source ; and in paying sundry visits to 
Cousin Felicia, for whom the whole family 
had conceived a tenderer and more lasting 
affection since they had heard of her trouble. 

Feadora had her hands full during that time. 
Another cook and another house-maid had 
been imported into the home ; the former of 
her own choosing, the latter of Cousin Felicia’s 
Fortunately for Virginie, Cousin Felicia’s 
choice had turned out to be a success. The 
old woman’s ups and downs with the new 
servants were becoming a source of worry to 
her. Her old placid face had now more lines 
and wrinkles in it than before. But her faith- 
ful adherence to Feadora never swerved. Time 
would show her darling that the ways of the 
young were not always the best ways. And 
she was content to wait till such time had 
taught experience. 

The new cook was a better one than the 
last ; but, as Roy put it, “ not a patch upon 
the old Jane.” Her unpunctuality, combined 
with the uncertainty of her cooking, was a 
terrible flaw in the eyes of the doctor. His 
meals were usually now scrambled over in 
great haste, after a considerable waste of pre- 
cious time spent in waiting about for them. 

No whispered words of warning from 


2o8 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Virginie that “ the master did look upon punc- 
tuality as one of the first of virtues,” had any 
power to make the new Jane hurry up. 
“ Lymphatic and phlegmatic,” were the words 
Gyneth applied to her, and truly they seemed 
to suit her. So as “ Phlegmatic Jane ” she 
grew to be known amongst them. 

Mr. Keith rarely presented himself in the 
dining-room during these last days. He was 
working against time to get his picture finished, 
and begged to have his meals carried to his 
studio. Dr. Oakley was averse to it from a 
doctor’s point of view, and spoke his mind 
plainly. 

“ A little ordinary recreation is necessary, 
Stanley. Your health will give way if you 
stick so close to paint brush and palette. You 
are not showing moderation in the way you 
work.” 

“ Be patient with me a little while longer,” 
was the artist’s rejoinder, smiling his own 
sweet smile, which few could resist, and cer- 
tainly not the doctor. “ I promise not to try 
your temper, Arnold, beyond this week. A 
few more days will see the completion of my 
picture, and then farewell for a while to paint 
and canvas. I shall take a holiday with a 
light heart when I have Lord Dane’s cheque 
for ;^3oo. But till then I must bear in mind 
that the work is a commissioned one and 
promised for by a certain date. I have per- 


MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


209 


haps idled over it since I came here, for it 
was delightful to take a little rest, but in 
memory of that I must work up now.'" 

“ Then take no further commissions until 
you have received the benefit of a thorough 
holiday,” replied the doctor, scanning critic- 
ally the slender figure of the artist as he bent 
to his work, and noticing with a feeling of 
alarm the thin delicate cheek turned in his 
direction. 

“ I’faith, no. I promise to take no further 
work for a while, for, in truth, I feel I need a 
rest.” 

It was a damp, drizzly day. Dr. Oakley had 
driven off after a more hurried luncheon than 
usual. 

The sight of her father’s face, as he had 
bolted the not too tasty meal set before him, 
remained to disturb Feadora's peace through- 
out the afternoon. She could not rid herself 
of the feeling that she ought to manage better. 

In the midst of her thoughts came in Kathie 
and Nannie, dressed to go out. 

“ We are going to Cousin Felicia’s, Feadora. 
You don’t mind, do you ? ” 

Kathie was growing wonderfully considerate 
these last days, feeling perhaps that it was de- 
manded of her in return for all the elder 
sister’s gentleness. 

“ Cousin Felicia asked us to go and have tea 
with her to-day,” put in Nannie, haunting re- 

14 


210 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


membrances of the still unhemmed duster 
which Virginie had set her to do the day be- 
fore floating in full vision before her eyes. 

“ No, I don’t mind,” Fea roused herself to 
say. “ Only to take waterproofs with you and 
umbrellas. Father will be so vexed if you get 
wet.” 

“We have everything ready in the hall. 
Gyneth’s going to walk with us on her way 
to the reading-room. Good-bye, Feadora.” 
Kathie stooped as she spoke and kissed Fea’s 
cheek lightly. 

They were not a demonstrative family — 
Kathie even less so than the others. No 
wonder then that a feeling of surprise, mingled 
with one of affection, thrilled through Fea, 
coming as the kiss did upon the very unpleas- 
ing sensation that perhaps she was not of much 
good after all, and had failed in everything she 
had set herself to do since her mother’s death. 

The girls clattered off, and the house grew 
quiet, till Feadora was again roused from her 
thoughts by the entrance of Virginie with 
Ronnie. 

“ Miss Feadora, dear, do you mind keeping 
your eye on Master Ronnie ? He is so trouble- 
some to-day that I dare not leave him alone, 
and I must just run out as far as High Street to 
get some more of that wool for another pair of 
socks for the master. Mary Holt has made 
these others so well that I think she had better 


MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


2II 


make another pair whilst she’s in the way of 
them. She has sent word by the milkman 
that, as she was obliged to come into the town 
this evening, she’d call round to see if I had 
the wool handy.” 

Feadora hesitated to proffer her own services 
in procuring the wool, her last purchase in 
that line being still vivid enough to hinder her 
from making a second attempt. 

“ Yes, leave him here with me. Fm not 
going out, and he can play on the floor with 
his bricks. You need not hurry back if you 
find you have other things to do when you get 
into the town.” 

Virginie thanked her, but still lingered, a 
look of hesitation on her face. 

Feadora, glancing up from the work in her 
hands, noticed the hesitation. 

“ Is anything the matter ? ” she asked in 
some concern, for affairs were always going 
awry now in the once well-managed home of 
the doctor. 

“ No ; oh ! no, returned Virginie, lowering 
her voice and coming a step nearer “ It’s only 
that I hope you won’t mind. Miss Feadora, if 
I ask you to be really careful of Master Ronnie. 
He has been so mischievous all to-day that 
I’ve been most afraid to let him out of my 
sight. I’d take him along with me into the 
town only that he’s had his walk this morning, 
and another would be too much for him.” 


212 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Feadora looked dignified. “ Really, Vir- 
ginie, you quite startled me with your long 
face. I thought something terrible had hap- 
pened in the kitchen. Of course I shall look 
after Ronnie carefully. I should have thought 
there would be no need of a second re- 
minder. He’s always good with me. There 
is not the slightest need for you to have any 
concern regarding him,” and, with her head 
stiffly set as a signal of her disapproval, Feadora 
resumed her fancy-work, not deigning another 
look in Virginie’s direction. 

A few minutes later she saw Virginie, clad in 
waterproof and sheltering umbrella, step out 
through the side entrance. And at the same 
time Mr. Keith entered the school-room. 

“ I believe your father is right, Feadora, that 
all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. I 
feel all nerves to-day and am going out for a 
stroll.” 

“ Oh ! Uncle Stanley, on this horrid damp 
day ? ” 

“ It will wash the cobwebs away. The 
sight which I caught from my window of those 
three nieces of mine stepping out so briskly in 
the rain put the desire into my head of doing 
likewise. Don’t expect me till you see me. 
I’ll tramp myself into a fit frame of mind for 
finishing my work to-morrow.” 

“To-morrow, uncle? Will it be finished 
to-morrow ? ” 


MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


213 


“ I hope SO. I feel like a veritable school- 
boy at the thought of my holidays approach- 
ing so fast. Ta-ta, Feadora. By the-bye, why 
don’t you come too ? ” 

Feadora shook her head with a smile and 
pointed to Ronnie, who was industriously 
building up a castle. “ I am left in charge, 
you see. If it had not been for Ronnie I should 
have liked nothing better.” 

“ Well, we’ll reserve the pleasure of each 
other’s company when the picture is com- 
pleted,” returned the artist with an answ^ering 
smile. “ And let us hope the clouds on that 
occasion will not be given to shedding such 
misty tears.” 

And off he went. And Feadora, left alone 
again, set to work once more. She was do- 
ing an intricate pattern in drawn-thread work 
which involved much counting. It was some- 
thing which the Vicar’s wife had begged her 
to do in aid of the coming bazaar, and Fea 
kept it on hand for odd moments. 

Ronnie played contentedly on the floor with 
his bricks, looking up every now and then to 
impart, with mysterious nods, scraps of con- 
versation he had overheard in the kitchen from 
the new servants. But as most of Fea’s replies 
were mumbled rather unintelligibly, Ronnie 
became tired, and piled up his bricks without 
further attempt at conversation. 

The drawn-thread work was not so intricate 


214 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


as to prevent Fea’s thoughts from re-taking 
their former dull tone. Decidedly, as far as 
the children were concerned, she and they got 
on more harmoniously. She was too honest 
to give the credit to herself. No, she preferred 
to give it to Wulf s influence over the others ; 
a word from whom she knew was often ad- 
ministered in secret. 

How was it that Wulf had gained such a 
hold over all their hearts ? Was it through that 
self-control which Fea found so hard to strive 
after ? The tears filled her eyes at the thought. 

And then the memory of her father s face at 
the early dinner blotted out all other thoughts. 
How grieved he had looked ; and how it had 
gone to her heart to see the poor meal he had 
made ; and how jaded and unrefreshed he had 
risen from his seat in answer to John’s infor- 
mation that the carriage was waiting to take 
him on his rounds again. Oh ! that she had 
never been so foolish and so hasty in letting 
that good Jane go away — a servant, too, in whom 
her mother had had full faith ! What would 
she not give to see Jane once more in the 
kitchen, dishing up those well-cooked meals 
at the very minute that they were required ! 

Feadora’s fancy work grew limp and moist 
as her tears flowed freely upon it. And then, 
throwing it aside, she hid her face in her hands 
and had a good cry as she thought of what her 
mother would say could she look down and 




“ Ronnie glanced up chuckling from his seat before the easel. ‘ I am helping 
Uncle Stanley with his picture.’ ” 

(See page 215) 



MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


215 


see the complete failure of all her eldest 
daughter’s cherished plans and theories. 

How long she sat there she did not know, 
till the distant banging of a door aroused her. 
It was Virginie entering by the back ; and 
Feadora looked suddenly up in search of her 
charge, the unusual silence in the room strik- 
ing her for the first time. 

Ronnie was not there. His bricks were still 
piled up, but he had evidently crept softly out 
of the room. 

“ Little imp ! ” she said, half smiling to her- 
self, “ where can he have gone ? Ronnie !,” 
she called, opening the school-room door and 
looking out, “ where are you ?” 

A low chuckle met her ears. It came from 
the room opposite, the door of which stood 
partly open. 

Why did Feadora’s lips whiten ? Why did 
her fingers tremble as she laid them on the 
handle, her heart beating painfully the while ? 

The room was Mr. Keith’s studio. She 
looked in, and paused trembling on the thresh- 
old. 

Ronnie glanced up chuckling from his seat 
before the easel. “ I am helping Uncle Stanley 
with his picture. See, red, and blue, and 
green ! Much prettier than Uncle Stanley 
had it.” 

Feadora’s lips lost all their color, and her 
cheeks grew a chalky white. 


2i6 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ Oh ! Ronnie, what have you done ? ’’ she 
cried, laying a sudden restraining hand upon 
the chubby fist armed with a well-painted brush 
of deep vermilion. 

Ronnie broke roughly from her. “ Fm help- 
ing Uncle Stanley ! ” he cried. 

And Feadora, with her hands still stretched 
forward as if to protect the canvas, burst into 
tears. The artist’s picture was daubed all over 
with thick patches of rainbow-colored paint ! 
The labor of months had been undone in a few 
minutes by an ignorant, ruthless hand ! The 
cheque for three hundred pounds — the well- 
earned holiday — what of them ? The dreary 
stretch of work, which Feadora shuddered to 
think of now, had been all in vain. 

With one hand on Ronnie’s shoulder and 
the other stretched protectingly over the easel, 
Feadora stood speechless, her tears raining fast. 
Ronnie looked cross, and then began to cry. 
Virginie moving in the passage heard him and 
looked through the open door. 

“Miss Feadora!” she exclaimed, “what’s 
the matter ? ” 

Fea could only point silently to the picture, 
which but a few minutes before had shown 
such a fair appearance. Now Virginie looked, 
and trembled ! Then the color faded from her 
cheeks also. 

“ Master Ronnie’s doing ! ” she gasped. 

Fea nodded. Then burst out, “ Oh 1 Vir- 


MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


217 


ginie, all the work is spoilt ! And he was to 
have finished it to-morrow ! ” 

With the return of her color Virginie’s as- 
pect grew stern. Never had she looked as she 
looked now. Laying a heavy hand on Ronnie’s 
arm she drew him from the room without a 
word. 

Fea’s eyes followed her with painful in- 
tensity. Was she going to punish Ronnie ? 
Well, he deserved to be punished as he was 
constantly in wicked mischief. But whose 
fault really was it that her uncle’s work was 
ruined ? Ronnie’s or hers ? She had been 
left in charge of him. If Virginie had been at 
home such a calamity would not have oc- 
curred. Virginie had asked her to keep him 
out of mischief, and instead of doing so she 
had sat thinking of other things, neglecting 
the one nearest at hand. Was she always to 
be a failure in everything she undertook ? 

Her tongue felt thick and parched. She 
wanted to cry out to Virginie that it was she 
who was in the wrong — that it was she who 
should be punished. But instead of doing so 
she stood like one turned to stone. 

And then ! Oh ! horror ! A laughing voice 
in the passage and a stamping of feet pro- 
claimed her uncle’s return. Another voice, 
too, was speaking. It was her father’s ! 

Were they coming in there ? Couldn’t she 
get away from the room before they came ? 


2i8 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


But her feet refused to take her. She felt she 
was growing rigid, and that a deathly face 
would greet them when they made their ap- 
pearance. 

“ Don’t scold me, Arnold, for choosing such 
a day for a walk. Keep all your bad words 
for to-morrow, I will then be able to present 
a broad back for their reception. To-morrow 
will see me emancipated from work.” 

The words bore down distinctly on Fea’s 
ears. A shiver ran through her. “ Emanci- 
pated from work ? ” The steps were coming 
towards the studio. And still she couldn’t 
move. 

“ I had promised myself the treat of looking 
at it only on the day of its completion,” she 
heard her father say. “ But I shall not resist 
the temptation of seeing it now. I suppose 
very little is required to complete it ? ” 

“ Only a few touches of the brush here and 
there,” was the artist’s bright rejoinder. “ A 
few finishing touches, which, perhaps, you will 
not miss, but which leaves a want to my eye. 
Hulloa ! the door is open. I thought I had 
locked it.” 

They were both in the room now, and Fea- 
dora was standing just as Virginie had left her 
— both arms stretched towards the easel, her 
face a ghastly white. 

“ Feadora ! ” 

Both father and uncle cried her name in 


MEDDLESOME FINGERS. 


219 


sudden terror. But her appealing eyes could 
only look from them to the ruined picture, and 
from the ruined picture back again to them. 
Her lips were sealed. 

With a sudden foreboding of fear the artist 
strode hastily forward, and looked on the 
canvas which had promised so much to him 
only a short hour before. The next instant he 
had turned away with a choked exclamation. 

Dr. Oakley glanced from one to the other in 
surprise, and then, stepping up, he looked 
curiously at the picture. A daubed, hideous 
mass of paint greeted his eyes, standing out 
like a harlequin decked in clownish array. 
The delicate touch of the master hand had 
been swallowed up in the coarse handling the 
picture had received from some fingers un- 
known. And the beautiful face of Lady Dane 
was blotted out on that canvas for ever. 

The doctor’s lips met together in one thin 
straight line. His hand fell like iron on Fea- 
dora’s shrinking shoulder. For the second 
time in her life his stern words fell on her 
dulled senses like molten lead. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


THE PROBATION OVER. 

“ Art thou already weary of the way ? 

Thou, who hast yet but half the way gone o’er it — 

Get up and lift thy burden ! ” 

Frances Anne Butler. 

“ Feadora ! tell me how it was done ? ” 

Easy to command, but how hard to fulfil. 

And to Fea’s relief came Virginie. In she 
whisked with face as rigid as her master’s. 

“ Fve put him to bed, sir. It’s time he left 
off such wicked ways. Mischief is mischief 
all the world over, and I have a soft heart for 
reasonable mischief ; but downright wicked- 
ness is another thing, and so I’ve been letting 
him know. He won’t do such a thing again 
in a hurry. But, oh ! it’s been learnt at a 
dreadful cost ! If only I hadn’t gone for that 
wool ! 

The last words were scarcely out of Vir- 
ginie’s mouth before she had repented of them. 
They passed unheeded by the two gentlemen, 
but they stung Feadora wifh a feeling of how 
just they were. 

“ I have not yet come to the knowledge of 
who has done it,” said the doctor. 

220 


THE PROBATION OVER. 


221 


“ It was Master Ronnie. He stole out of the 
room when no one was looking, and set him- 
self with deliberate mischief to ruin Mr. Keith’s 
beautiful picture. Ah ! sir,” addressing the 
artist, who still stood apart in the shadowy 
corner, “ it goes to my heart to think of all 
your work being done for naught ! Oh ! the 
naughty, naughty boy ! " 

“Virginie makes a mistake.” Feadora’s 
voice had come back to her, but so queer and 
strained that they all looked at her in concern. 
“ It was Ronnie who daubed the picture, but 
it is I who am alone to blame. I forgot to look 
after him when Virginie charged me with the 
care of him. If I had watched him more care- 
fully it would not have happened.” 

True words and bravely said, and Virginie 
will not be wondered at for gulping down her 
emotion and gazing with an expression of 
pride on her darling. 

“Oh! uncle, uncle, I can never forgive 
myself.’’ 

It was an exceedingly bitter cry, and one 
that Mr. Keith could have responded to had 
not the blow been so keen. But he had been 
hard hit. Without making any reply, he left 
the room with a hurried step, and a minute 
after they heard his bedroom door close. 

“This is the climax, Feadora,” said the 
doctor in a hard tone. “ I shall speak later to 
you. Just now I cannot trust myself.” 


222 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


And Feadora could say not a word in reply. 
She was left standing alone by the picture, 
with Virginie’s sympathetic old features twitch- 
ing painfully. 

“ Don’t look so, my lamb,” she murmured, 
stroking with tender fingers the tense rigid 
face of her second nursling. “ I must whip 
Ronnie with my own hands to-night, for it’s 
time he learnt better ways. But all the pun- 
ishments in the world won’t bring back the 
lady’s beautiful face to the picture.'' 

“ Oh ! Virginie, Virginie, I am a wicked 
girl ; and, oh, so useless ! ” 

And, flinging her arms wildly round the old 
woman, Fea hid her face on that faithful 
breast. 

“ Hush, hush, my dear ; the master’ll not 
like to hear you cry like that. The Lord alone 
knows why He let Ronnie’s hands spoil beauti- 
ful work like this, that has taken months and 
months of cleverness — ay, and taken health, 
too, from the clever brain and fingers that have 
worked it.” 

“ It was done to teach me my own selfish- 
ness and pride— my own confidence in all I do. 
I see it all so plainly now. At every turn I 
take I see now my hateful self, priding myself 
on my own cleverness and management. And 
this has been sent to give me a final blow. 
But oh ! at what a cost.” 

A tear was ^trickling down Virginie’s faded 


THE PROBATION OVER. 


223 


cheeks, but a sparkle was in the bright eyes 
that looked down so fondly at her darling. 

“ Oh ! my darling, the mistress’ words were 
right when she said one day, as she lay on her 
couch, ‘ My Fea will be a noble woman when 
she wakes up to see her own faults and tries to 
conquer them.’ ” 

“ Did mother say that ? And when ? ” 

“ A couple of weeks before she was taken 
from us. She was wishing you were older. 
And then she said what I have told you now. 
And at the last she said, ‘ My prayer has been, 
and will still be, even when I am waiting for 
them in Paradise, that God will bless all my 
children, and bring them to a full knowledge 
of their shortcomings and all His kindnesses.’ ” 

Fea crept like a wounded animal to her 
room, and, locking the door, flung herself 
down upon her knees. 

Oh ! if only she could begin her work all 
over again. Six months had been the time of 
probation allotted to her, and two months and 
two weeks of it had dragged slowly by, bring- 
ing nothing but discomfort, and weariness, 
trouble and anger. 

First, the mistake of dismissing the servants, 
and the weariness of seeking fresh ones ; the 
putting herself disagreeably against the chil- 
dren, and always on the look out for anything 
resembling defiance against her authority ; her 
aversion to asking advice from those elders 


224 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


who ought to know, and did know, so much 
better than she what was right ; allowing her- 
self to become so selfishly absorbed in the 
duties she had taken upon herself that she had 
shut herself off from entering into the amuse- 
ments and interests of those committed to her 
care, seeking none of their confidence, but 
holding herself proudly aloof as one deeming 
herself their superior in judgment and position. 

And what had she gained by it all ? 

The father was looking harassed and con- 
cerned ; the two younger girls had narrowly 
escaped with their lives, through plunging 
into mischief of their own seeking ; Ronnie 
had been once at death’s door ; and now this 
last crowning calamity ! And who was to 
blame for it all ? Or, at least, for a great part 
of it all ? 

Fea hid her face in her hands, and sobbed 
aloud. 

ShQshe to think herself capable for one 
instant of filling the vacancy that had been 
caused by the death of her mother. Oh ! am- 
bitious thought ! What overweening pride ! 
Fea thanked God on her knees for having 
opened her eyes to her own shortcomings 
before further mischief had been wrought. 
Enough had been done. Ah ! too much, 
when she thought of that ruined picture, which 
would always be before her as a reminder of 
her failures. 


THE PROBATION OVER. 


22 $ 


As she rose to her feet her mind was made 
up. With knees that trembled beneath her, 
she started downstairs. Her father was in the 
hall, laying a letter on the table for John to 
post that evening. 

“ Father, have you time to speak a word to 
me ? 

The doctor turned at the trembling tones. 
Then took out his watch and glanced at it. 
Only ten minutes to spare,” he answered. 
It will take less than that to say what I 
have to,” was Fea’s answer. 

Her face was very pale, and if the doctor's 
heart was touched his manner did not show 
it. But Fea never faltered from her pur- 
pose. 

“ Father, perhaps it would be wiser to get 
in the working housekeeper. I — I — have failed 
in my undertaking. I know you gave me six 
months to try it, but everything has turned out 
a terrible failure, and it is better that I should 
give it up before— well, before things get 
worse.” 

“ I have come to the same conclusion, 
Feadora.” 

The words and the dry tone brought a lump 
into Fea’s throat. 

“ Then will you write about some one at 
once ? ” 

“ I have already done so.” 

“ Already ? ” 

15 


226 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


The dethronement had come sooner than 
she expected, and Fea gulped down her 
humiliation. 

“ A— a — working housekeeper, father ? ” 

She could not help asking the question. 
The thought of an uneducated woman placed 
above herself, as in her girlish ignorance Fea 
deemed a working housekeeper must ever be, 
completed the girl’s humiliation and over- 
flowed the cup. 

If in the midst of Dr. Oakley’s stern de- 
meanor there lurked in his eyes a twinkle of 
hidden amusement, Fea, in her abasement, 
did not see it. 

“Yes, a working housekeeper. And Fea — 
Feadora, I mean ” 

“ No, no ; not that hateful name. Never, 
never, never will I be called by that horrid 
name ! Father ” — and Fea flung her arms 
passionately round him — “ forgive me all the 
trouble I have caused you. I have been no 
help — only a hindrance in the house — and 
such a failure ! But if you still love me, say 
you forgive me, and show it to me by never 
calling me Feadora again.” 

The twinkle was growing deeper, but there 
was a mist, too, in the doctor’s eyes which, 
perhaps, accounted for Fea’s not noticing it. 

“ Eh 1 my little girl — tired of the grown-up 
name already ? Why, I don’t know how I 
shall get my tongue round the old babyish 


THE PROBATION OVER. 


227 


name of Fea after schooling myself so rigidly 
to keep up with the fashion.” 

“ Oh ! father, please, if you love me, you 
will easily fall into the dear old name of Fea.” 

“ Then Fea it will be, and your old daddy 
is not sorry to go back to the old name. For, 
truth to tell, my child, I did not feel it was my 
daughter I was addressing when I called you 
by the grand name that Cousin Felicia insisted 
on at your christening.” 

“And, father — the working housekeeper ” 

Fea could not keep away from the subject. It 
was so hideously fascinating to her. 

“ The working housekeeper will, I hope, be 
here before a week is over. And I trust to 
you, Fea, to see that she is made happy 
amongst us.” 

“ It is — quick work, father ? ” 

“ There is necessity for despatch, my dear.” 

“ And you have had good recommendations 
with her, father ? ” 

For the life of her Fea could not resist that 
last question, although the doctor’s manner did 
not invite much interrogation on the subject. 

“ The best of recommendations. And now, 
Fea, you must not hinder me any further. I 
must see your uncle before I start out.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 

DEJECTION. 

** As high as we have mounted in delight, 

In our dejection do we sink as low.” 

Wordsworth. 

It was still pouring with rain, but Fea waited 
till her father had gone upstairs, then ran hur- 
riedly to her room, and with quick fingers 
donned waterproof and hat, and started off, 
umbrella in hand, to Cousin Felicia. 

She felt she must be the one to tell Mrs. 
Danvers of her dethronement. It must not 
come from other lips — even were they her 
father’s. 

Cousin Felicia was at the window, and saw 
her coming. 

“ Anything wrong, Feadora,” was her startled 
question as the young girl appeared. 

“ Yes, Cousin Felicia, everything is wrong. 
It has been going wrong for the last ten weeks, 
until a climax has been reached — such a climax. 
Cousin Felicia ! ” 

The old lady’s face blanched, and Fea felt 
angry with herself for causing the sudden 
pallor. 

“ Sit down. Cousin Felicia,*' she said gently, 
228 


DEJECTION. 


229 


drawing the old lady's chair forward. “The 
wrong has come from me. I don't know how 
I can tell you, but I must. Ronnie was left in 
my charge by Virginie, and I did not look after 
him, and he stole into Uncle Stanley’s studio 
and — and — spoilt his picture of Lady Dane.” 

“ Spoilt it ! ” cried the old lady, horror- 
stricken. “ Not entirely ? It can be rem- 
edied ? ” 

Fea shook her head with sorrowful vehe- 
mence. “ He has passed a brush up and down 
the face, and made it a staring daub of rainbow 
colors.” 

Mrs. Danvers put up her hands with a face 
of horror. 

“ And your uncle ? ” she almost whispered. 

“ He has locked himself in his bedroom. 
Oh ! Cousin Felicia, the picture was to be 
quite finished to-morrow, and he was looking 
forward to the rest he had earned, and to taking 
it up himself to town — and it is my doing— all 
my doing ; ” and Fea hid her face in her hands 
and wept bitterly. 

“ Poor child, poor child ! ” 

Cousin Felicia’s voice had never sounded so 
sweet in Fea’s ears before, and the hand that 
stole gently over her bent head was very sooth- 
ing to the girl’s overwrought nerves. 

“ All that I have attempted has been unsuc- 
cessful,” sobbed the girl ; “ from the very, 
very first.” 


230 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ And the keynote for that unsuccess, Fea- 
dora, my dear " 

“Was too much confidence in my own 
powers. Indeed, Cousin Felicia, I know it 
only too well ; but it has come upon me when 
it is too late.” 

“Never too late, my dear, never too late, 
especially when we have learned where we are 
weakest. Then are we strong if we are willing 
to fight the foe with the weapons that earnest 
prayer gives to us,” murmured the old lady 
softly. “ Come, Feadora, there is hope for 
the comfort of your father’s house when you 
openly confess where you have failed. Cheer 
up, my child, and begin afresh, and I’ll vouch 
for a happier ending when another ten weeks 
are over.” 

“ I shall have no further chance,” said Fea, 
with a catch in her voice. “ Father has al- 
ready written to some person to come and take 
the housekeeping affairs in hand.” 

“ Already ?” The old lady looked as startled 
as Fea had done. 

“ Yes. And he is right. Cousin Felicia. I 
am too ignorant and too proud to ask advice, 
and through it all the very thing that I have 
been trying to avert I have just brought about. 
I wouldn’t mind so much,” sobbed Fea, “ if 
she were some nice ladylike woman who was 
coming ; but she will be an ignorant house- 
keeper who will keep us all in check, and I 


DEJECTION. 


231 


will never dare to thwart her, knowing where 
I have failed myself.'’ 

“ I don’t think your father will do anything 
to make you all unhappy, my dear. Who is it 
your father has written to ? ” 

“ I don’t know. But he says she will 
be with us in less than a week, and that he 
has had the best of recommendations with 
her.” 

Cousin Felicia looked amazed for one second. 
Then a light broke over her face, and she al- 
most smiled. Fea was wiping her wet eyes, 
and when she looked up again the old lady's 
face revealed no tales. 

“What I came to ask you, too,” said Fea, in 
a shamed voice, “ is whether you could find 
out in some way if our old cook Jane is disen- 
gaged. If she is, do you think, Cousin Felicia, 
you could get her to come back to us ? On the 
old terms, of course, as much company as she 
likes,” faltered Fea, putting up her hands to 
cover her shamed face. 

“ I will certainly not tell her that,” laughed 
the old lady merrily. “Come, come, Feadora, 
don’t give me to understand that you would 
either. Unlimited company — oh ! shocking. 
But as for finding out if she is disengaged, I can 
easily do that. I believe she has some situa- 
tion, but is not too comfortable. Yes, it would 
be right before the new housekeeper came ; ” 
and here Cousin Felicia’s eyes twinkled so 


232 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


merrily that Fea saw it, and wondered vaguely 
what it meant. “ It would be right that a 
better cook should be installed rather than 
have the present indifferent one kept on. 
What about the housemaid I got for you ? ” 

“ I think she will answer. Virginie likes 
her very much.’' 

“ That is all right. Come, my child, I think 
brighter days are in store for you. And for 
your sake I am glad so much responsibility 
will be taken off you. I don’t hold with put- 
ting old heads on young shoulders. Why, 
Feadora ” 

But at the last word Fea put up a pleading 
hand. 

“ Not that name, please. Cousin Felicia. If 
you only knew how I detest it ! ” 

“ I thought you expressed a wish to be 
called by it,” exclaimed the old lady. 

“ So I did. But I hate it now. It brings 
back to me all my follies and my failures. 
The old name, Cousin Felicia, is much sweeter 
to me now, and I will feel like my old self, but 
a much, much better self, I hope, than even in 
the old days.” 

“ It will be Fea with me, then, dear. I shall 
not forget. And if I do, just pull me up pretty 
short. A look will do — I’ll know what it means. 
Feadora is a heathenish name. I don’t know 
why I ever chose it for you.” 

And whilst Fea broke into a half hysterical 


DEJECTION. 233 

laugh, the door suddenly opened, and Uncle 
Stanley appeared. 

Fea’s laugh ceased as suddenly as it had 
burst forth. But the artist was smiling as he 
came in. 

“ I thought Fd find you here, Feadora. I 
have been hunting all over the place for you at 
home,’' he began, looking tenderly at her. 

But Cousin Felicia rose, and waving her hand 
gently towards the young girl, said quietly — 

** Not Feadora^ Uncle Stanley — she is buried 
and put out of our sight completely. Let me 
introduce you to our own dear Fea^ whom we 
shall all welcome with open arms.” 

Mr. Keith’s arms were opened literally as 
Fea darted into them, sobbing out as she did 
— “ What about the picture ? " 

‘‘ Don’t cry your heart out about it, my little 
niece. There are more serious things in life, 
than even the damaging of a picture. Shall I 
tell you what I am going to do ? My holiday 
has come one day earlier than I had expected, 
and I am going to profit by it. I shall start 
for town by the first train to-morrow, and I 
want you to come home with me and help me 
to pack. Will you ? ” 

The convulsive straining of Fea’s arms 
round his neck told him how upset the girl’s 
whole frame was. 

“ And about the picture ? ” she whispered 
again, with a convulsive sob. 


234 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ I shall just tell Lord Dane how it hap- 
pened, and if he is willing to accord me time, 
and Lady Dane a few more sittings, I shall 
begin it again after I have taken the desired 
rest.” 

“ I wonder you don't hate the sight of 
me ! ” cried Fea passionately. 

Somehow, Cousin Felicia, after making the 
introduction, had slipped out of the room, and 
the two were alone. 

“ To what end, my child ? And if this has 
taught you something— why, all has not been 
lost. It is one of the little things again, Fea. 
The small matter of guarding Ronnie’s mis- 
chievous fingers was swallowed up in ponder- 
ing over the great things which you felt you 
would like to do in your life. Am I not right ?” 

“ And, as Fea nodded, unable to speak, he 
continued quietly — 

“ If you will let the damaged picture teach 
you a lesson of how important these little 
things in our lives are, and how much injury 
they can do to those we care for if neglected, 
I shall never regret the time spent on it, nor 
consider that it was ever a wasted picture.” 

Then, kissing her cheek, he quoted softly — 

“ Small things are best. 

Grief and unrest 
To rank and wealth are given ; 

But little things 
On little wings 
Bear little souls to Heaven.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE WORKING HOUSEKEEPER. 

“ Pack clouds away, and welcome day, 

With night we banish sorrow.” 

Heywood. 

There seemed to be a convulsive tremor 
running through the younger members of the 
doctor’s household. Awful pictures of a tall, 
bony woman, with strident tones, ordering 
them hither and thither as she wished, were 
conjured up by Roy for the benefit of his 
sisters. And they trembled as they listened. 

They called her the “ working housekeeper ” 
at every turn, and fresh conjectures were 
daily being made as to what sort of woman 
she would be. 

It was no use applying to Dr. Oakley for in- 
formation ; his lips were sealed. So also were 
Wulfric’s, though he seemed to be thoroughly 
cognizant as to what manner of person she 
was. Virginie was mysterious, nodding her 
head gravely, and breaking into many a cheer- 
ful song. 

Mr. Keith had written a bright letter from 
London. Lord Dane had taken the mishap to 
235 


236 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


the picture in a very kindly spirit, and had re- 
newed the commission when the artist was in 
a fitter frame of body and mind to begin the 
work. 

“ Meanwhile,” wrote Uncle Stanley, “ his 
lordship with Lady Dane intend traveling on 
the Continent for a couple of months, and 
have most kindly asked me to accompany 
them and be their guest. I feel in such need 
of an entire change that I have gladly con- 
sented, and we start next week. Tell Kathie 
and Nan that I will send them the prettiest 
picture post-cards that I can get of all the 
places we stop at. And Fea must give me a 
full account of how the first sight of ‘ the 
working housekeeper ’ impressed her." 

By some miracle, known only to Cousin 
Felicia, Jane was back again in the kitchen, 
dishing up well-appointed meals to the very 
minute. Fea’s heart would have been quite 
light if the haunting dread of what sort of 
woman the terrible housekeeper was had not 
taken possession of her. She was tired of 
making mistakes and relying entirely on her 
own judgment, and the thought of leaning 
entirely on and putting full confidence in some 
one older and better than herself would be very 
sweet if only — oh ! if only she knew what kind 
of person her father had chosen. 

The children had — one and all — been kindly 
sympathetic towards her when the knowledge 


THE WORKING HOUSEKEEPER. 


237 


of her dethronement had become known to 
them, and not a whisper that could have dis- 
turbed the elder sister had ever reached her 
ears. 

Indeed, with Fea as she was now — gentle, 
kind, sisterly, and sympathetic — shorn of her 
former authoritative manner, they would rather 
no usurper stepped in. Let them keep their 
Fea, and hunt the “working housekeeper ” out. 
It was Roy’s suggestion, and the idea easily 
caught on. 

“ Who wants a frumpy, fussy old maid inter- 
fering here ! Let us band together to give her 
such a reception that she will soon want to 
back out of the business.” 

“And then we’ll all send in a Round Robin, 
begging father to let Fea take up her place 
again,” said Kathie. 

But the knowledge of this proposed boy- 
cotting came to Fea's ears, and though it filled 
her pulses with new and warmer feelings for 
the young brother and sisters who meant fight- 
ing for her honor, yet she put down the move- 
ment with a dignity that became her. 

“ It would be a mean thing to do to any 
woman, no matter how horrid she might be,” 
said the elder sister. “ Let us prove her first, 
dear Roy, and oh ! let us try to make it easy 
for her. Cousin Felicia truly says that father 
would have no stranger in the house who would 
make us unhappy.” 


238 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


“ She’s a usurper ! ” struck in Kathie. 

“ If she is, it is through my own fault. If I 
had done better, she would not have come. 
But oh ! dear, I am praying hard that she may 
turn out to be very, very nice, and that we 
shall all be happy again. Wulf holds out 
mysterious hopes to me of such a thing, and — 
well, I have given up worrying about it, and 
am only just waiting.” 

Whilst they were all at luncheon that day, 
the new Sarah brought in a telegram which 
she handed to her master. 

The children eyed it in a subdued fashion, 
then looked stealthily round at each other. 

Dr. Oakley read it in silence. Then looked 
up with smiling lips. 

“ Is it from the working housekeeper, 
father?” broke in Nan, unable to contain her- 
self longer. 

“Yes. Fea, she comes amongst us to-mor- 
row at four o’clock.” 

A prolonged “ O-o-oh ! ” greeted this an- 
nouncement. 

Wulfric looked up brightly. “ I am glad 
the suspense will be soon over. Why, no 
proper work can be got through for speculat- 
ing upon what this working housekeeper will 
be like.” 

But none of the others could be got to look 
as brightly on the matter as himself, and Roy 
felt indignant with his father for the smile 


THE WORKING HOUSEKEEPER. 


239 


which would steal over his lips every now and 
then. 

‘‘ It wasn’t kind to Fea,” said the boy later 
on, when alone with Kathie. 

And Kathie agreed with him in all sincerity, 
and heartily wished that “ that pig ” of a house- 
keeper would be killed in a train accident 
whilst on her way to Littlefield House. 

The following afternoon found the young 
Oakleys a sober, subdued, and half sullen crew, 
awaiting the arrival of the 3.30 train. They 
had been granted a half holiday so as to be 
present at the arrival, and were not quite sure 
whether to be glad or sorry at the unexpected 
treat. 

Kathie had been hoping against hope that 
the train might meet with a collision, and no 
one hurt excepting the “ pig.” She, she hoped, 
would be killed outright. 

“ I don’t want her to suffer pain or be a crip- 
ple for life,” explained Kathie magnanimously ; 
“ but just be killed right off, so that we will be 
rid of her.” 

That would be no good,” replied Roy 
moodily. “ Father would only set about getting 
another one.” 

“ Umph ! I suppose so,” returned Kathie. 
“ There are bound up to be other pigs in the 
world, sent only to vex the souls of all innocent 
people.” 

“ What do you think ! ” cried Nan, burst- 


240 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


ing into the schoolroom. “ Father has actually 
had the carriage sent to meet the train and 
bring her up here.” 

“ Never ! ” cried Roy angrily. “ Well, that 
beats all ! The governor is carrying it rather 
too strong.” 

“ I hope her clothes won't soil the cushions, 
that’s all,’' said Kathie with grim scorn. 

Five heads were pressed against the school- 
room window panes, watching for the carriage 
to return from the station ; and five figures 
fought for as good a post of observation as 
could well be got. 

“ Get away. Nan ; I can’t see anything for 
your hair. I didn’t come here to have that 
pressed against my nose,'’ cried Roy. 

“There !” exclaimed Kathie, as Ronnie set 
up a howl ; “I knew how it would be. The 
nursery is the place for a kid like you. Ronnie, 
I do wish you’d go to Virginie. You'll have 
your fingers trodden on if you put them on the 
ledge like that.” 

“ I want to see the working housekeeper as 
much as you,” returned Ronnie stubbornly, 
holding on to the ledge with all his small 
might. 

Gyneth with dignity moved to the other 
window, but finding it only a poor vantage 
ground after all was forced to return, only to 
see Nannie cosily ensconced in her place. 


THE WORKING HOUSEKEEPER. 


241 


“ Hark ! there are carriage wheels ! ” cried 
Roy. 

“ Here it comes, bowling along, just as if 
John were driving an empress ! ” cried Kathie 
with wrath. 

And “ Oh ! ” screamed the children in one 
breath. “ Wulfric is sitting alongside of her ! ” 

“ That’s too bad of Wulf, giving her such a 
royal welcome ! ” 

Gyneth craned her neck to see over the 
heads of the others, and peered through her 
short-sighted eyes to catch a glimpse of the 
occupants. 

Yes, there in truth sat Wulfric, smiling and 
nodding to the heads at the window. And, as 
John swept the carriage through the entrance 
gates in a masterful style, the chorus of voices, 
in all notes of amazement, and indignation, 
and admiration, was raised to a frightful pitch. 

She is actually laughing and nodding to 
us ! ” 

“ She is waving her hands to us ! The cheek 
of her ! ” 

“ She is blowing kisses to us ! ” 

And then there was a howl of another sort. 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh ! It is — it fs— Aunt Cicely ! ” 

“ But where is the working housekeeper ? ” 
cried Ronnie with a shriek. 

No one responded. Every one rushed to 
see who would get downstairs the first. 

Fea, who had been endeavoring to work her 
16 


242 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


nervousness off in the drawing-room, by 
picturing to herself what alterations in the 
home the housekeeper would try to effect, and 
wondering if she would be able to keep her 
temper when she saw them, had come into the 
hall at the sound of the carriage wheels, and 
was nearly bowled over by the rush of feet 
which met her at the entrance. 

“ It's Aunt Cicely ! It’s Aunt Cicely ! ” 

And then the hall door was flung open, and 
the carriage stopped at the same time. 

And Fea, gazing with eyes extended to their 
furthest, saw Wulfric handing out a dainty, 
chirpy little lady, with the sweetest of sweet 
bonnets, and the cheeriest of cheery smiles. 
And beneath the bonnet and behind the smiles 
Fea caught a likeness of the mother they had 
lost, and a lump rose in her throat, for she 
suddenly remembered how often it had been 
said in her hearing that her mother and Aunt 
Cicely were “ as like as two peas.” 

Whilst Fea gazed, the children were clamor- 
ing round the dainty little lady, and Wulfric 
was laughing as she had not heard him laugh 
for a very long time. 

“ Does the sight of the working housekeeper 
please my lassie ? ” asked a mischievous voice 
at her elbow. 

And, turning, Fea beheld her father and 
Cousin Felicia who had been in quiet hiding 
in the surgery, and had only now emerged. 


THE WORKING HOUSEKEEPER. 


243 


“ Oh ! father, it is too good of you ! she 
cried, choking back the tears which the relieved 
tension of feeling had brought into her eyes. 

And Dr. Oakley understood. With a lov- 
ing pat on her shoulder he moved out to wel- 
come his sister-in-law, leaving Cousin Felicia 
to whisper in Fea's ears — 

“ Aunt Cicely will oil the housekeeping 
wheels, dear, and bring back the old home 
peace.” 

They had kissed and welcomed Aunt Cicely, 
even Cousin Felicia coming in for her share, 
before Fea could muster up courage to go 
forward. Then the little lady, with such a 
look of the late Mrs. Oakley in her face, came 
up quietly, and, taking Fea into her arms, 
said with loving cheeriness—- 

“We must both help each other to make a 
happy home for the good father and this big 
crowd of boys and girls, Fea, dear.” 

And whilst Fea returned her aunt’s pressure 
with all her heart, Ronnie's voice was heard 
in a shrill pipe of disappointment. 

“ But where’s the working housekeeper ? ” 
And in the laugh that was raised, Virginie’s 
bright eyes peeped round into the hall, and 
then withdrew. But not before the still 
brighter eyes of Aunt Cicely had spied her. 

“ Come, Virginie ! " she cried, “ I am wait- 
ing for your welcome. Will this working 
housekeeper suit you, do you think ? ” 


244 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


Virginie's curtsey swept the very floor as 
she replied — 

“ The master and we want just such as you, 
my lady, to keep us comfortable ; and my 
lamb here ” — laying a gentle hand on Fea's 
arm— ‘‘ will now be made happy." 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

AND LAST. 

“ Oh ! Wheel of Fate, turn on thy round, 

With ne’er a fret or jarring sound, 

As glide the years ; 

Weave thou a texture golden bright, 

Without a thread of Sorrow’s night, 

Or drip of tears.” 

It was a year later. And the month was 
the lovely month of June. 

Mrs. Danvers was giving one of her favorite 
rose parties. Roses bloomed everywhere — red, 
pink, white and yellow. They stood out in 
relief on the walls of the house ; on the trel- 
lised arches ; on the tables of the marquees, 
where bowls of them shed their fragrance on 
the summer air ; and last, but certainly not 
least, the pinkest and the rosiest were to be 
found in the cheeks of the young girls gathered 
about on the lawns in full enjoyment of the 
day. 

White, fleecy clouds floated in the deep 
blue of the heavens ; birds skimmed the air 
or carolled in the wide-spreading branches of 
the trees ; and butterflies with gossamer wings 
flitted from flower to flower. 

245 


246 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


It was a typical day for a garden party ; and 
Cousin Felicia, as she passed from one to 
another of her young guests, felt her kind 
heart stirred with something more than a 
hostess’ hospitality as she witnessed their 
pleasure. 

Her eyes brightened as they rested on one 
party in particular, entering in just then at the 
gate. 

They numbered ten— a pretty strong party 
if they consisted of one family. And so they 
did, with the exception of a rosy-cheeked, 
happy-looking lad, who was bringing up the 
rear with a girl on each side of him and throw- 
ing chaff at the boy just ahead of him. 

But Jack Boyd had grown to look upon 
himself as quite one of the Oakley family. 
Indeed, the Oakleys themselves always num- 
bered him amongst them. And it was a 
standing joke that Aunt Cicely, on being once 
asked how many nephews she had, had re- 
plied absently, “ Four, counting little Ronnie.” 

Cousin Felicia’s welcoming smile was very 
bright as they all came up to her. 

The whole crew, Arnold ? ” she said, beam- 
ing round at each in turn. 

“ The whole crew, and one more to come,” 
returned the doctor, with a laugh and a side 
glance of merriment at his sister-in-law. 

Aunt Cicely, just as chirpy and just as 
sweet-looking as when— little more than a 


AND LAST. 


247 


year ago— she had driven up in state to take 
charge of Dr. Oakley’s household, answered 
the glance with one equally merry. 

“ Don’t blame me, Felicia, for bringing 
along such a host. You send your invitations 
broadcast, and you must bear the penalty. 
Not only did every one clamor to come, but a 
new arrival — as new as ten minutes before we 
left home — announced that he would, in a 
very short while, make an addition to our 
party. I leave you to guess who he may 
be.” 

“ We must give her something to go by,” 
said Wulfrid compassionately. ‘‘ He is travel- 
stained.” 

“ And is also embrowned by Continental 
suns,” supplemented Gyneth. 

“ And you haven’t seen him for more than 
a year,” put in Kathie and Nan together. 

“ Not — oh ! not — Stanley ! ” exclaimed Cousin 
Felicia. 

“Uncle Stanley in all truth,” returned Roy 
with a grin. 

“ And there he is, coming in at the gate,” 
pointed Jack. 

The others moved off to join friends they 
saw in the garden. And Mrs. Danvers, tuck- 
ing Fea’s arm within her own, said — 

“ Come, you and I will go to meet him.” 

But Fea hung back just a little. “Cousin 
Felicia, you surely haven’t forgotten that I 


248 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


have not seen him since — since he went away 
to become Lord Dane’s guest after that — 
terrible affair.” 

“ Now, Fea, we are not going to spoil this 
beautiful day with painful reminiscences. 
And you may be very sure neither will 
Uncle Stanley. Here he is. Welcome home, 
Stanley.” 

A sunburnt man, with none of the delicate 
appearance that he used to have, raised his 
hat and gave Cousin Felicia’s fingers a hearty 
grip. 

“ It is good of you to welcome the wanderer 
so,” he said, and the old bright tones warmed 
Fea's heart. “ I scarcely deserve it for being 
so long away from you all. But ah ! Felicia, 
if you only knew what months of enjoyment I 
have had in the picture galleries at Florence 
and Milan, in Rome and elsewhere.” 

“ Don’t I know from the letters you have 
sent home ? They have been well read. I 
can assure you,” smiled Cousin Felicia. “And 
when learnt by heart they have been handed 
to Fea here, who keeps them under lock and 
key as if they were of priceless treasure.” 

“Is that so?” asked the artist, turning his 
his kind eyes in his niece’s direction. 

And then, somehow, Fea found herself alone 
with Uncle Stanley, for Cousin Felicia had al- 
lowed herself to be whisked off by one of her 
numerous guests. 


AND LAST. 


249 


“ And you, Fea ? How has the world gone 
with you since I left a year ago ? The few 
minutes’ sight I had of you all in the old home 
warmed my pulses I can assure you, for a 
happier, brighter-looking family I could not 
have wished to see anywhere. Look up, child, 
and tell me. Has not this last year proved a 
blessing and a help to you ? Your face tells 
me that it has.” 

“ Does it ? I am so glad. Oh ! indeed. 
Uncle Stanley, when I look back upon those 
unhappy months I feel so thankful to Aunt 
Cicely for having come to our assistance. 
Our home is such a happy one. It grows 
dearer to me every day. And I know I may 
speak for the others as well.” 

“ And the home worries ? And the trouble- 
some temper ? ” asked the artist softly. 

“ There are no home worries,” returned Fea 
brightly. “Aunt Cicely has cured all that. 
The temper, and the foolish pride, and the self 
assurance,” she continued, in a quieter tone, 
“ have all, of course, still to be controlled. 
But I do try very hard ; and I think I am a 
little better than I used to be. The year has 
flown so fast. The children ” 

“ Yes, what of them? ” said Uncle Stanley. 

“ The children are so much more like what 
they used to be in dear mother’s time. Kathie 
is growing so thoughtful, and is losing so many 
of her boyish ways. She and Nannie have 


250 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


entirely recovered from that terrible fright 

they had. And Gyneth ” Fea gave a 

little laugh— “ Gyneth has become the tidy 
one amongst us. Her room is a pattern to 
every one, and she is in dire distress if her 
dress is not arranged without a hitch. No 
torn skirts, nor missing buttons now ! Wulfric 
is just the same dear fellow, and has passed, 
as we wrote and told you, with high honors. 
Father is so proud of him. Roy and I are 
better friends than we used to be. And 
Ronnie is still the petted darling, but— he is 
not so mischievous as he was when you — when 
you went from us” — Fea’s voice faltered at the 
last. 

The artist laughed lightly. “ Haven't you 
done grieving for that picture yet, Fea ?” 

And as she shook her head, he said softly — 

“ I have— long ago. And what is more, I 
have done another, which, in my estimation, 
has been accomplished with far greater skill, 
owing to the extra advantages I gave myself 
during our stay in Italy. I should not like to 
compare the two pictures now, even before 
Ronnie's little fingers had touched it.” 

“Was it the same subject?” asked Fea 
eagerly. • 

“Yes. It was a splendid picture of Lady 
Dane. I did not write home about it, for I 
promised myself the pleasure of telling you 
quietly— before any of the others.” 


AND LAST. 


251 

Fea raised her glowing face with a look of 
such gratitude that Mr. Keith stooped and 
kissed her. 

“ I think/' said Fea, with a long-drawn sigh 
of relief, “ that there is now nothing left to wish 
for, knowing, as I do, that that picture has 
been finished." 

“ Eh ? What ? " laughed the artist. “ Had 
I known that it was still a source of worry to 
you, I should have written and let you know." 

“No, I would rather you had told me as you 
have done now. Oh ! Uncle Stanley," squeez- 
ing his arm tight, “ it only wanted you to come 
home to complete our happiness." 

“ Felicia," said the doctor, finding her for a 
few minutes all by herself, “ I went to see 
Adrienne yesterday." 

“ Oh ! Arnold." Cousin Felicia’s face lost 
something of its bright cheerfulness. 

“ You don’t think I would spoil your day," 
said the doctor quietly, “had I not good news 
to tell." 

Mrs. Danvers clasped her hands, and looked 
eagerly at him. 

“ There is every hope of Adrienne becoming 
her own old self again. The head doctor 
at the Asylum holds out the very strongest 
hopes." 

“ Oh, Arnold ! " 

It was only an exclamation, but the tone in 
which it was said and the look that accompanied 


2S2 


FEADORA’S FAILURE. 


it sufficed to repay Dr. Oakley for the many 
little inconveniences attending his visits to the 
Asylum. 

The shadows were beginning to lengthen 
when a little old woman, with a brisk step, 
came up the avenue looking for her charge. 

It was Virginie, looking far more placid and 
much less wrinkled than when we saw her 
last. 

Ronnie was not to be seen, of course. He 
had hidden as soon as he caught sight of the 
familiar old figure. 

“ Come, come, Virginie,’* said Cousin Felicia, 
spying her, and marshalling her into one of the 
tents, “ you are not going to run away with 
anybody yet. Here are strawberries and cream 
waiting to be eaten, and ice creams and cakes 
in abundance. You don’t go home until you’ve 
done your share towards helping to consume 
them.” 

The shadows had lengthened greatly, and 
the sweet-voiced thrush was early beginning 
to sing his evening hymn of praise, when the 
party of ten, with the artist added to their 
number, and a little old woman bringing up 
the rear, bade farewell to Cousin Felicia, who 
waved them a cheerfnl good-bye at the gate, 
and then turned to wipe away a tear of thank- 
fulness. 

The thrush still carolled on with pulsating 
throat and heart bursting with gratitude to its 


AND LAST. 


253 


Maker. And the setting sun, as it sank to sleep 
in a ball of fiery crimson, threw its promise 
o’er the west of lighting the east with the 
warm breath of morn “ before the world was 
’ware.” 







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